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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22497721">The Penitent Sinner</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/emimuart/pseuds/emimuart'>emimuart</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dracula &amp; Related Fandoms, Dracula (TV 2020), Dracula - BBC, Dracula - Bram Stoker, Dracula - Netflix</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Action &amp; Romance, Action/Adventure, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, F/M, Heroes &amp; Heroines, Internal Conflict, Religious Conflict, Religious Imagery &amp; Symbolism, Romance, Slow Burn, Vampires</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 17:02:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>57,639</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22497721</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/emimuart/pseuds/emimuart</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Her imperfectly suppressed fascination with everything dark and evil has lead her down the path of a sinner and as much as she may repent, Agatha can never seem to reach absolution.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Arthur Holmwood/Lucy Westenra, Arthur Holmwood/Quincey Morris/John Seward/Lucy Westenra, Dracula/Agatha Van Helsing, Dracula/Lucy Westenra, John Seward/Lucy Westenra, Jonathan Harker/Mina Harker, Mina Harker &amp; Lucy Westenra, Quincey Morris/Lucy Westenra</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>404</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>401</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Reflections of the Penitent Sister</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is my first attempt at writing.<br/>A friend convinced me to try, and these characters really caught my attention.</p><p>This story will hopefully be a healthy mix of both the BBC-Netflix series and the original book by Bram Stoker.</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>‘ Was it a punishment?<br/>For betraying God and all things holy? Her barely and poorly suppressed fascination with everyhing dark and evil. When had it begun? ‘</p><p>Agatha reflects on all that she has done wrong leading up to the final confrontation in the Rules of the Beast.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Hungary 1897 </em>
</p><p>Was it a punishment?</p><p>For betraying God and all things holy? Her barely and poorly suppressed fascination for all things dark and evil. When had it begun?</p><p>Joining the order had been the only option she had. Her family was destitute and she the only daughter. Faced with her lack of marriage proposals due to her unfeminine intelligence and lack of dowery, she instead committed herself to the almighty. It was easier. A roof over her head, food in her belly and plenty of time to study the most hidden of manuscripts.</p><p>She had simply wanted to better herself, sequestering herself in the study of anything she could get her hands on. Eventually, she had came across dustier publications with strange symbols, promising mystery. Her curiosity had gotten the better of her. Agatha had strayed from the heavenly light into the dark and murky research of old folk tales and the occult.</p><p>How irony smarted her as she and the mousy Englishwoman begged for the return of the light to banish the dark and murky shadows from her dingy study. As her sisters’ screams echoed off the covent’s walls, yet she forced herself to listen, it was her punishment and she must be penitent. Her eyes didn’t stray from the silvers cross held securely in her hands. Its sharp edges digging into her sliced hand, reminding her of her fatal transgression.</p><p>O, how foolish she had been! Taunting the vampire. But the rush of power had blinded her sensibility. She had felt invincible as her theories were proven correct, it was yet another of her sins. She had forgotten that she was but a mere mortal.</p><p>Yet a much greater misdeed had been committed. Her good, holy sisters had averted their gaze, while she, in her wantoness had been unable to tear her eyes away from Him.</p><p>He, who was both serpent and apple, leading her into temptation. Infinitely tall, dark hair slicked back with all manner of unpleasantness..Handsome in a way that was rugged and battle worn, no longer young but not quite old either. The air of danger and mystery that drew her in. Her damnable curiosity once again entrapped her senses. An aura of evil hidden behind a thin veneer of nobility, only a few drops of blood needed to make it crumble.</p><p>That was what she must remind herself of. Not his regal looks but the snarling creature who licked the blood, her blood from the knife and the cobbles. He was nothing but a mere beast. No, that wasn’t true. Despite how much she wanted to believe, the false nun knew that there was more to him. There wit and learning, even if his sarcasm was morbid and cruel. Dear mother superior was proof of that, falling victim to his sharp mind. He had retained all the arrogance and elegance of a prince. What a man he must have been in life. But he was no longer a man, he was the Devil.</p><p>Now, here she was, huddled with Mina in a circle of protection that seemed silly even to her. The poor child had been through so much, she had been brave even to come but Agatha feared the suicide of her beloved fiancé and the death of the nuns in front of her very eyes had been too much for her. When the echoes of her sisters finally ceased, she closed her Bible, the book she should have been reading instead of those of the occult.</p><p>“It’s alright, the screaming has stopped” She reassured softly, petting flaxen hair.</p><p>Mina looked up at her with haunted eyes, “I don’t know how you could bare to listen to that” She sighed relieved.</p><p>“I brought it on them. Listening was my punishment” Agatha replied resolutely, she understood, or at least she had understood God’s punishment for straying for her godly path.</p><p>”Dracula’s going to find us, isn’t he?”</p><p>“Of course”</p><p>“How is bread going to keep him out?” Mina questioned doubtful. It was only bread after all and he had managed to enter the walled convent.</p><p>“Sacramental bread” The nun answered as if that was very obvious.</p><p>“But how?”</p><p>“I don’t know. None of the vampire legends make any sense and yet still they are somehow proving to be true”</p><p>“He got into the covent. How did he get in here?” She pointed out, it all seemed so nonsensical to her, as if ripped from some terrible gothic novel that Lucy loved so much.</p><p>“Clearly there was an invitation” Agatha replied already having a sneaking suspicion of who had done the terrible deed.</p><p>Footsteps resounded down the stone steps sensing shivers down both women’s spines, as the door creaked open, they both held their breath, preparing themselves to face the Count. Agatha didn’t feel nearly as cocky as she had before, for despite all her knowledge and preparation, the vampire had managed to kill all her convent. 

</p><p>“I thought you-you were...I saw you dead.” Mina exclaimed as a bedraggled Jonathan Harker shuffled into the room.</p><p>It came as no surprise that Mister Harker was still alive, well alive as he had been before, for she had doubted that his fiancée had been able to put a stake through his heart. Vampires were proving to be remarkably resilient. 

</p><p>“I couldn’t stop him, Mina. I let him inside. He's inside.” He replied dejectedly.</p><p>

“We know, Johnny. He killed everyone.”

</p><p>Not exactly, not everyone, they remained. But He had killed the best of them. Her sisters who were nothing but holy and kind women, unlike herself, clearly God wished for her to suffer further for her sins before joining him in Heaven.

</p><p>“Do not cross that line. You can't come any closer.” Agatha stated firmly, partly to reinforce her own belief that the line of sacramental bread would be enough to protect them.

</p><p>“Let him in.” “We cannot trust him.” “He is strong, stronger than you think, and if I'm with him..” 

</p><p>“No one is strong enough. No one!” The nun snapped. Since she had not been able to defeat Him, how on earth, would simple Johnny be able to? 

</p><p>“Please! We can't just leave him out there.” 

</p><p>“Do not invite him in!” 

</p><p>“No! Come here, Johnny. Come to me. I am inviting you to be with us.” The optimistic blonde beckoned. 

</p><p>“You don't know what you're doing! He let Dracula in - he will do it again!” 

</p><p>She should have killed Mister Harker like she had originally intended too, she had the stakes ready. It would have been a mercy really. But she had pitied him and Miss Murray and their tragic romance. That fatal mistake had cost the lives of her sisters and she was not about to let it happen again. 

</p><p>“You won't, will you, Johnny? Cause I'm here with you. And I will give you strength. The two of us, together, we can be stronger than him, Johnny...” Mina smiled hopeful, assured that her love would be enough the banish the evil from her beloved. She brushed aside some the crumbled bread with her shoe. The corpse that was Johnathan Harker shuffled forward through the broken circle.

</p><p>“You’re your eyes!” Mina exclaimed, now face to face with her love, yet that face was not the one she had grown to adore. 

</p><p>“He's inside.” Johnny replied, his voice clouded and twisted, his face full of fear while his eyes, dark, no black, held nothing but mischief. 

</p><p>“Why aren't your eyes blue any more?” Mina questioned in horror, what had happened to his eyes. They were not his eyes, Johnny had always had the most brilliant sky blue eyes, yet now they were so dark...soulless in their inky blackness.

</p><p>The skeletal man leaned closer to the tearful woman, 

</p><p>“They're not my eyes.” He whispered into her ear in a voice that was not his own, his lips barely moving as he reached up and tore away his jaw, the already rotting skin giving away with ease. He dropped it the ground as if it were nothing more than a piece of vegetable peel. 

</p><p>Mina screamed in terror backing away from the creature who was most certainly not her Johnny, as it continued to peel away its flesh. 

</p><p>Agatha watching in fascination and disgust, crying out even a little herself in shock, before pulling the silly girl behind her. 

</p><p>Pulling away the last pieces of his face to reveal the grinning face of the Count, who besides his mussed hair, seemed none too bothered by the gruesome act. 

</p><p>“Hello, I've been dying to meet you” Dracula cheerily greeted with an obnoxious and proud smile on his face, looking like the cat who caught the canary, or rather canaries. 

</p><p>For the final time, she cast her eyes to the wooden cross on wall and made a silent prayer hoping that God would forgive her for her sins and save dear Mina before it was too late. Despite her shrill screams and gasping grating on the sister’s nerves, she knew that the young did not deserve the same fate as her sisters. For herself, Agatha knew that all that was left if the almighty did not forgive her, was more southernly destination after all of her transgressions.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Dear reader,</p><p>I hope you enjoyed this first story of mine.<br/>If it does well I may write some more in this same line so please do leave a kudos and comment so I know that you enjoyed my first foray into art of the wordsmith.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. A Deal with the Devil</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>God doesn’t come to her aid so Agatha is forced to make a terrible deal in order to save a terrified Mina. Of course this only leads to more sins on her part.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you so much for all the love and support on my first piece of writing. It really has meant the world to me.<br/>I hope you enjoy this new installment to the story.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Was the Lord dead? Or had he simply abandoned his flock to the wolf?<br/>
For despite her prayers, he did not intervene to save dear Mina. Perhaps much like the priest, he proclaimed faith yet did not protect his congregation.<br/>
If God would not act then the duty fell to Agatha. </p><p>“Count Dracula..” She beckoned pulling back her wimple to expose her throat to the beast,</p><p>“Have you eaten?” She asked with an enticing smile. Of course he had, he had gorged himself on her sisters.</p><p>Her teasing words drew his piercing gaze, ignoring Johnny’s beloved fiancée. Was she so foolish as to offer herself up to him instead of running? More than likely, after all she had believed that provoking him was a good idea.</p><p>“I’ve worked up quite an appetite..Good thing there are two of you..” He replied with grin, best start with her, show her one final time what her taunting lead to.</p><p>A screaming Mina was pushed aside as he eyed up his prey, the foolhardy nun. What interest was the shrinking daisy when he could have the blooming rose.<br/>
Advancing on her, he could see the pounding of her blood, the faintest whiff of it in the air. He had already gotten a taste of her, and though only scraps, he knew that he needed more. There was so much in just those few drops. </p><p>“Ah, not so fast, Count, I wish to propose a deal..” Agatha stated calmly, raising her finger to him.<br/>
</p><p>She must not show any fear, for he was like a wolf, able to smell such things on the wind.</p><p>Stopping in his tracks he leant back on his heels,</p><p>“A deal? What makes you think you’re in any position to make a deal?” He asked incredulously.<br/>
He would amuse her simply because she amused him.</p><p>“Because you want me, or rather my blood, is that not true?”<br/>
His lack of reply proved her right.</p><p>“So I will offer myself up to you freely in exchange for you letting Mina go, simple no?” She spoke with a smile. </p><p>“Then what is stopping me from killing you then the darling girl?”</p><p>“What interest do you have in her? She is but a timid mouse, surely that is not what tickles your refined palate. A willing meal must taste much better than one filled with fear”</p><p>“Mmm..”<br/>
</p><p>She was right, the girl was of no interest to him, and he had already eaten his fill with the nuns. She was a paltry meal in comparison to Agatha Van Helsing who was so filled with promise and learning. Terrified children like Mina were a dime a dozen.<br/>
Not to mention that it was also good to further his reputation by leaving the odd survivor, she wouldn’t be any bother anyways. </p><p>“Alright. Deal.” He answered with a smug grin. </p><p>Mina turned wide eyes to the sister, who must be quite insane. She wished to speak but her mouth could not form the words, she stood paralyzed in terror by the mere presence of the vampire.</p><p>Petting her blonde hair gently, Agatha wiped the tears from her rosy cheeks, the Count could wait for all she cared. </p><p>“Go now, leave this place, go home to England” She bid, sending her to safety while she lead herself to the slaughter.</p><p>The girl did not respond, her eyes staring up at her hopelessly, </p><p>“Go now!” The nun snapped sending the fearful lamb running to the hills and out of the dark study. </p><p>“Now shall we shake on it?” She asked, looking at the vampire as if it were a simple business transaction.</p><p>“How about we kiss on it instead?” He purred playfully. Riling her up was part of the fun. As she had provoked him, he would do the same to her.</p><p>Scowling in disgust, she resigned herself to her fate with a nod, at least she was able to have Mina’s life spared. Would God reward her for it? Or would she punished for succumbing to the Devil to do so?</p><p>Her throat was long and thin, delectable in its delicacy, yet he could also see the strong tendons of muscle and, the o so delicious jugular. He had tasted only scraps of her blood yet the idea of more had him licking his lips.</p><p>The nun watched intrigued as his eyes seemed to redden and his canines elongate. How curious? She wondered if it was simply an involuntary reaction to stimuli or was it a conscious choice on his part.<br/>
Due to dangerous nature of the subject, there was a terrible lack of actual information on vampires, most stemming from witnesses’ accounts and folk tales. No concrete scientific information seemed to exist much to her dismay. She wished she had a pen and paper at hand, though he probably wouldn’t be too keen on her studying him.</p><p>His gaze was predatory as he approached setting every her nerve alight with the instinct to flee, instead she stood her ground. She had made her peace, she would die to save the terrified child. To redeem herself of the sins which had lead to her sisters’ demise.</p><p>Brazenly she pulled down the shoulder of her habit to expose more skin to him.

</p><p>“Agatha Van Helsing... I’m going to make you last. You shall travel with me to the new world” He promised softly, her name like honey on his tongue</p><p>It repulsed her, that look in his eyes, the way his tongue traced his bloodstained lips. She was a nun and he, a beast. He should not look at her in such a way. Such a disturbing way which sent not unpleasant shivers down her spin, only serving to repulse her further, at both him and herself or rather her reaction. She was a holy woman. Had forgone all earthly pleasure yet he seemed to draw out all her worst parts. She reasoned it was simply a biological response to an attractive man’s attention or an odd side effect of deathly fear. But he was a monster and Mina had most certainly not seemed that way inclined.<br/>
</p><p>Where there was fear, there was also curiosity. She wondered what it would feel to have her very life force drained from her veins. What would it feel like to die? From what she had surmised from Mister Harker, it had felt much like dreamily wasting away. </p><p>His icy grip on her shoulder drew her from her musings.<br/>
How curious, not overtly fearful, though her heart was definitely soaring. The air was filled with more than the sweet aroma of her blood. The reason for her thrumming heart, he smiled knowingly leaning in closer to her. His wholly unnecessary breath fanned her neck,</p><p>“You may now kiss the bride” Dracula snarled under his breathe before sinking his fangs deeply into her flesh.</p><p>They both all but moaned at the sensation.<br/>
The hot rush of ambrosia like blood flooding his mouth. The sharp pinch at her throat, her eyes lulling back as her vision swirled then there was nothing but endless night.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Dear Reader,</p><p>Thank you for continuing to read this story.<br/>Once again a kudos and comment would be very much appreciated. Also feel free to mention anything you might like to see in future chapters.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Start of a Long Voyage</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Her sacrifice doesn’t go as planned and Agatha is forced to further forsake what she believes in order to play along and keep Dracula happy.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Warmth.<br/>
Her world is a cocoon of warmth shrouding her like a blanket.<br/>
Is this the heavenly warmth of the Lord? So close to the Light, no more darkness for her to fear.<br/>
It jarred her from her darkest thoughts and made her feel alive, though surely she was dead now. </p>
<p>Her eyes open and she is blinded by the light, so different from the shadowy world she has just departed. The warmth she had felt was simply the sun, shining brightly in all its glory. Its rays cascade onto the world, bringing the scene before her into full view, a blue sky with not a cloud in sight above a field of red tulips.</p>
<p>They came to her waist as she stood, with long green leaves, they were the most beautiful flowers she had ever seen. A blazing scarlet that captured the sunlight in such a way that they seemed to glow.<br/>
Endlessly, they continued for as far as her eye could see, an infinite sea of a ruby red. </p>
<p>Red. The color of love and of fire, of desire and of blood. </p>
<p>It all comes back to her. The convent, her sisters, herself...so much blood. And Him.<br/>
Where is she now? Was she dead and this was heaven? If so where are her sisters for surely they should be there to greet her? Unless she didn’t ascend at all. With all she had done, it would not come as a surprise if she had descended instead. </p>
<p>There was no one to tell her where to go. She was lost and confused.<br/>
The cursed flowers reminded her of home, the one beauty of her poor hometown. </p>
<p>Yet here, wherever here was, she was quite alone. Maybe that was her punishment, to be forever condemned to loneliness, an amplified echo of her life.</p>
<p>Or perhaps not. A figure comes into view on the horizon, advancing towards her at unnatural speed. A man. Or maybe an angel or a devil.<br/>
It was the latter, as the unmistakable figure of the Count came closer. Of course it was Him, here to torment her for all eternity for it was he who was the root of all her sins. </p>
<p>There was something off about him. He seemed, more human. His clothing no longer black as night, he wore navy trousers and a loose fitting white shirt. His skin seemed more alive, gone was ethereal paleness replaced with the bronzed kiss of the sun. And his eyes, as he stood in front of her, were no longer soulless and black but the warmest brown with flecks of honey. She could not help but gaze deeply into them. </p>
<p>“Why are you here?” She questioned, her mouth a thin line.<br/>
This was supposed to be her heaven or her hell. Either way she didn’t want him ruining it. </p>
<p>He smiled softly, gone was the ever present smugness, </p>
<p>“Because you want me to be” </p>
<p>“I most certainly do not. Are you here to torture me? Because if so, get it over with already” She snapped.<br/>
Why would she want him here? He had done nothing but anger her and hurt those she cared for in her previous life. </p>
<p>“Agatha..always so brave..” He whispered softly, reaching up to cup her cheek, his thumb gently caressing her cheekbone.</p>
<p>“It’s time to wake up now”.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>—————————</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A gloved hand insistently pats her cheek.<br/>
Agatha groaned, her eyes opened to the grinning face of Count.</p>
<p>“Good. You’re awake. Did you get your beauty sleep?” He said moving back from her to the opposite seat, as she sat up.</p>
<p>She closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose, everything ached, most of all her head. A few deep breaths seemed to calm her spinning mind enough that she managed to look around. The walls were covered in black velvet, she was sitting on a leather bench and they were in movement, her world was rocking. She was in a carriage. How had she gotten there? </p>
<p>“Where are we?” She asked, she was exhausted, despite having apparently been asleep.</p>
<p>“I thought that was quite obvious, Agatha, we’re in a carriage” He replied.</p>
<p>She rolled her eyes, how childish could he get?<br/>
“Obviously. Where are we going?” </p>
<p>“Why? To the new world of course!” He exclaimed joyfully,<br/>
“I did promise I would take you there” He added with a grin.</p>
<p>Another groan emitted from her lips. Of course he had been serious. She had thought it was some silly metaphor of his and that he would just kill her there and then. He really meant to take her along with him.</p>
<p>Unfazed by her clear annoyance, her travel companion rambled on,</p>
<p>“We’re going to Varna to board a ship named the Demeter in about..” Checking his pocket watch he continued on, “An hour. You shall travel under the name Countess Dracula..”</p>
<p>“No! I refuse. I am not your bride, Count, and I never shall be. I will play no part in this charade.” She interrupted abruptly. </p>
<p>She would not play his games. She would not end up like Mister Harker, a mere shell of herself. She would end her own life before it came to that.</p>
<p>“Maybe so, but if you want darling Mina to reach England in one piece, you will do as I say” He retorted, her insolence was rather exhausting, he would have to teach her to behave better.</p>
<p>“You shall play the role of Countess weakened by illness traveling to England for the fresh air and change of scenery.” </p>
<p>She wondered if Mina had even lived, it would not be surprising if he had not kept his word. But she could not risk it as she hoped to all that was righteous and holy that the dear girl was still alive, and she would do everything in her power to keep it so.</p>
<p>Ignoring the thorn in her side and the fog in her head, she tried to think back on all that had happened. </p>
<p>She realized suddenly that the clothes she was wearing were not her own. In place of her usual blue habit, a long navy blue skirt and bodice with gigot sleeves and cream blouse underneath. Looking in the window, she could see that her long chestnut hair had been pulled up in a curly pouf adorned with a ridiculous small matching feathered hat.<br/>
She was the picture of a fashionable socialite, he had even placed a pair of black leather gloves and cream parasol next to her and much to her dismay, had dressed her in all the necessary underpinnings.<br/>
He had dressed her. The revelation came with a flush of embarrassment which he must have noticed,</p>
<p>“Don’t worry, your modesty isn’t compromised, I barely even peeked” He said with a chuckle. </p>
<p>She highly doubted that as it was impossible to do up all the laces of corset without looking. A bizarre feeling since no man had ever seen her naked, she felt offended, embarrassed and curious. She wondered what he had thought of her nude form. </p>
<p>The clothing was all too much. Too fashionable, too ostentatious and too unlike herself. She didn’t feel like herself, but that was the point after all. She was playing his wife, representing his name and he, despite mostly seeing him covered in bodily fluids, seemed to like nice things.<br/>
He wore a fine redlined wool cape, suit and black kidskin gloves...all perfectly tailored, all in his signature black. The perfect picture of refined masculinity when he was anything but.</p>
<p>“I even packed a trunk for you with all the necessities of a lady..something you were sorely missing” </p>
<p>“I was a nun..I am a nun” She retorted. </p>
<p>She had had no need for such vain material objects.<br/>
Was she even still a nun though? Her covent was destroyed, she had betrayed her God by playing with the Devil. She even wore his ring. </p>
<p>A delicate band of gold that ornately curled around two diamonds. The centerpiece took her breath away, the uttermost blue sapphire she had ever seen, though admittedly she hadn’t seen much fine jewelry in her life.<br/>
The gemstone looked as if someone had captured a portion of the ocean for her viewing pleasure alone.<br/>
She should really tear it off and toss it at his self-satisfied grin, but she couldn’t bring herself to, so instead she left it in on her hand. </p>
<p>He hummed dismissively, not believing a word she said, she was certainly like no nun he had ever encountered, not that he had met many.</p>
<p>“Aren’t nuns meant to shave their heads when they join the order?” He pointed out with a smug grin.</p>
<p>Unlike her sisters, she had kept her hair because it was her only vanity. Luxuriously chestnut, it was her sole feature that had ever been complimented. It had always been hidden by her wimple but now it was on show for all to see.<br/>
Was it this lack of dedication, unwillingness to give up her earthly beauty that had consigned her to this?</p>
<p>Rather than admit that he was right, she looked out at the scenery. </p>
<p>Sloping land full of forests and woods, with here and there steep hills, crowned with clumps of trees or with farmhouses, the blank gable end to the road.<br/>
In and amongst the hills, ran the road, losing itself in the grassy curve, or shut out by the straggling ends of pine woods, which here and there ran down the hillside like tongues of flame. Long gone was the snow covered landscape of Buda-Pesth.</p>
<p>He had said they were traveling to Varna, which if she remembered correctly, was a Bulgarian port on the black sea. How long had she been asleep? Her mind was still murky but it must have been days for the last thing she remembered was being in the covent. </p>
<p>Agatha toyed with her skirt, rolling the silky material through her fingers. She was still confounded that he had yet to kill her. She had been so certain that he was going to back in her dingy study. It would have been easier to die for her sins while saving Mina rather than have to put up with his diversions. </p>
<p>Dracula kept a perplexed eye on her, both amazed and pleased with how calm she was being. He really wasn’t in the mood to wrangle her if she decided to do something silly such as try to murder him or escape. </p>
<p>The road was rugged, but they still seemed to fly over it with feverish haste.<br/>
The once green countryside filled with more and more grey stone cottages until they had finally reached Varna. </p>
<p>A miserable and dour town, it reminded her somewhat of her familial village. Everything was shades of muddy brown and dreadful grey, not at all helped by the overcast sky.<br/>
The streets were filled with the hustle and squalor of all seaside ports.<br/>
They drove through the town to the harbor. </p>
<p>“Now Agatha, dear, do try to act like a lady despite how hard it may be” He grinned putting on some sunglasses and a top hat for good measure.<br/>
As if that would save him from the sun, perhaps the cloud cover was enough.</p>
<p>The driver opened the carriage door and he descended before offering her his hand which she reluctantly accepted and climbed down onto the docks.<br/>
The smell of the sea hit her, it had been so long since she had seen the sea, though she would probably grow to hate it with him for company. </p>
<p>Agatha took his arm as he guided her towards their ship, the Demeter.<br/>
The greek goddess of the harvest who lost her only daughter to the fearsome king of the underworld. How fitting that a man who embodied Death should be her passenger. </p>
<p>“I’ve already had all our luggage loaded” He said as they walked.</p>
<p>“It’s not the largest ship around but it’s pleasantly intimate, I should think. Four weeks is plenty of time to get to know the other passengers..” He continued with a mischievous grin.</p>
<p>He wouldn’t. Would he? Surely it would be foolish to murder the other passengers in such claustrophobic conditions.</p>
<p>They were clearly in the thick of loading cargo onto the ship. Men were yelling in a language she didn’t understand and a pulley was lifting huge crates into the hull. </p>
<p>He lead her through it and across the gangplank and down onto the deck of the ship.</p>
<p>“All aboard?” The Captain asked. </p>
<p>“All but two s-sir, a uh..Count..” The sailor stuttered</p>
<p>“Count Dracula” Dracula answered with a grin, “And my wife, Countess Agatha” He smiled to her to which she could only smile and nod her greeting to the two men.<br/>
</p>
<p>It was going to be a long voyage.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Dear reader,</p>
<p>I hope you enjoyed this latest chapter.<br/>Again please do leave a kudos and a comment so I can keep bringing you more chapters. Let’s try and get to 100 kudos!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Marriage Story</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tricked into playing happy marriage, Agatha’s mind is now also playing tricks on her as she sets sail for the New World.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Varna 1897</em>
</p><p>Marriage had never seemed like a very good proposition.<br/>
She had always wanted the freedom to learn and study.</p><p>Most men in her tiny dutch village had found that desire disturbing simply because it proved them to be less intelligent than a woman.<br/>
Batty Agatha and many more horrible names had been yelled at her. The irony that years later, she had become quite obsessed with bats.</p><p>Those narrow minded men would rather tie her down and control her, making her a desperate housewife, popping out a screaming spawn every year.</p><p>No, that was certainly not the life for her so instead she had become an educated woman in crucifix.</p><p>Yet somehow she had still managed to trap herself in matrimony, at the very least a fake one. Though her pretend husband certainly could have been more agreeable. The Count seemed all too proud with calling her wife which bothered her to no end.</p><p>“Welcome abroad Countess Dracula. I am Captain Sokolov, I do hope you will enjoy your trip aboard my ship” The rugged man greeted,</p><p>“Enchanted Captain Sokolov, I am certain my husband and I will have a pleasant journey” She smiled politely.</p><p>Agatha desperately wanted to correct him but her clouded mind had her saying those words without her even realizing it.<br/>
She wasn’t Countess Dracula, she was a Van Helsing, proud to carry such a name, yet her mind swirled at the very idea of contradicting the farce of their marriage.</p><p>It felt as if her mind was no longer her own, just an extension of the vampire’s will, much like had happened to Mister Harker’s.</p><p>The seaman nodded walking off to attend to other duties.</p><p>“Come darling wife, let’s go settle into our cabin” Dracula ushered her into ship leading her down the dark pine wood corridor, seemingly more in his element back in the shadows.</p><p>Surely he didn’t intend for them to share a room, as a supposedly married couple it would make sense, she just hoped they had separate beds.</p><p>She held his arm, partly because she wasn’t certain she could stand on her own two feet and partly because she wasn’t certain she could even release him as if some part of her brain compelled her stick to him like glue.</p><p>The floorboards creaked beneath her so much like those in her convent. Old and well worn by her sisters and now she desperately clung to their killer’s arm.<br/>
What had she done? She should never have agreed to this game. She was betraying their memory.<br/>
She needed to get away from Him and off the damned ship.</p><p>The corridor seemed to shift before her very eyes though she was quite certain they were still in the port.</p><p>Stumbling, the Count kept her upright before pulling her into their cabin and plopping her unceremoniously on the bed.</p><p>“What have you done to me?” Agatha groaned holding her head, she felt as if she were floating, her head spinning right off her shoulders. She leaned back onto the scratchy pale blue sheets, a difficult feat in her whale boned corset.</p><p>She couldn’t care less if he was standing there, she needed to lie down before she was sick all over her nice new clothes, though she would certain to aim at the gloating face of the Count.</p><p>“The kiss of the vampire is an opiate. Come now Agatha, you didn’t think I’d let you have free will to foil my plans, did you?” Dracula asked amused by her befuddled state, seemingly so vulnerable.</p><p>“So you’re controlling my mind?” She cried out terrified.</p><p>Her mind had always been her greatest asset. Without it she would have nothing.<br/>
She was no great beauty but she was smart, able to outwit nearly everyone she had ever met, until the Count that was.</p><p>“Not quite, more like censuring you. Anytime you try to go against the story I told you, you’ll feel it...sort of like tapping a dog on the nose when it misbehaves” He explained.</p><p>O, how the tables had turned. She had called him a dog looking for scrapes and now she was the naughty dog being reprimanded by its master. Except he was most definitely not her master, he was her captor and she would find a way to escape no matter how terrible she felt.</p><p>Her eyes were closed for every time she opened them the brown lines of the wood walls spun, nonetheless she could sense him approach, despite his deathly silence.</p><p>Dracula leaned down, admiring her face which was pulled in discomfort. Served her right for taunting him at iron gates of the nunnery. She had taken away his free will with her blood so he had done the same to her with his bite.</p><p>There was a wet sound, a gentle brush of moisture against her throat, euphoria flooding her veins.</p><p>She wasn’t beautiful but she was striking in a harsh sort of way, unlike the meekly curvaceous look favored by most. Not quite young but still with a strong elegance about her, nothing but steel under her skin.</p><p>“I’ll leave you to sleep it off...in a few hours, I will come and get you for dinner..make you sure you dress up nicely, can’t have you looking like yourself” He instructed with a chuckle wiping his lips as he headed for the door.</p><p>“Then it’s a date” Agatha spat managing to look him in his mirthful eyes before his image blurred to black.</p><p> </p><p>—————————</p><p> </p><p>The nun had been a delightful little aperitif but now it was time to see about the main course.</p><p>Dracula headed for the lounge where some of the other passengers had congregated for departure.</p><p>An interesting range of characters from the nobility to the gentry.</p><p>The grand Duchess who had matured like a fine wine, losing her girlish good looks in the process not that he cared about such trivial things. She would be his starter.</p><p>Lady Dorabella, young and beautiful, she reminded him somewhat of Wilhelmina Murray. A tad dull but the perfect palate cleanser to keep him looking youthful.</p><p>Her husband, Lord Ruthven, was boring but young, as was his man servant and lover. They would both be decent enough snacks if he still felt peckish later on.</p><p>The foreign Doctor Sharma, now there was a proper meal. A man of scientific regard, the Count most definitely needed to brush on his knowledge of science as it was rather outdated.<br/>
His daughter, a deaf-mute, was of no real interest, he might just leave her alive or use her to wash down her father.</p><p>The ship’s crew were all rough sailors, not exactly fit for his refined taste he had no desire to ruin his delightfully acquired English accent with their poorly articulated ones.</p><p>Getting them all onboard his floating pantry had been a stroke of utter genius.</p><p> </p><p>—————————</p><p> </p><p>All was darkness, no dreams of sunlight and tulips. Agatha finally had a peaceful sleep so when she finally awoke, she didn’t feel quite so awful anymore.</p><p>Her body still felt oddly light and her thoughts as if they were wading through the earth when the daffodils sprout as the snow melts. At the very least she felt rested.</p><p>Sitting up, she now took in the simple room. Pine wood clad like the rest of the ship, there was a little desk to one corner, a wardrobe to another and the bed she was on. Only one bed, well then the Count could sleep on the floor like the mutt he was.</p><p>What truly caught her attention was the window at the back of the room. Walking over to it on legs that were far more accustomed to solid ground, she looked to see if there was any way to open it. If she could just get it open she might be able to save the oblivious and innocent people onboard.</p><p>However as she did, it was if a trigger was tripped in her skull. An explosion of throbbing, swirling pain. The damn vampire’s deterrent. She reeled back from the glass panes as if burned, and just as quickly as it had come, it abated.</p><p>Her own mind had become her enemy. Her very own Judas.</p><p>Not wanting to risk bringing back the awful ache her head, she faintly remembered him telling her to prepare for dinner.</p><p>Going over to the wardrobe, which had seen better days, she opened it to relieve a multitude of garments already on the rail. Surprisingly lacking of his funeral attire, where was he keeping his possessions?</p><p>Dracula certainly hadn’t scrimped on anything. There were skirts and matching bodices much like the pair she was wearing in various different shades of blue. Funny how he had chosen to dress her in the same color as her habit.<br/>
There was also a few decadent gowns of silk and organza with delicate chantilly lace trim.<br/>
Pulling out the bottom drawer, her cheeks flushed with blood for it was full of undergarments, the lightest cotton stays with pink and pale blue ribbons.</p><p>Surely the Count had not bought all of these clothes himself. It brought an amused smile to her lips to imagine the arrogant vampire shopping for frilly underpinnings.</p><p>As Agatha dressed herself she was amazed, everything was in the most fashionable of cuts that she could only have ever dreamed of owning and most concernedly, everything fit her like a glove.</p><p>At the desk come vanity, she set about tidying herself up.</p><p>Lighting the sconces, she rinsed her face with some cold water from the basin which helped to wash away the sleep and cloudiness.<br/>
Then she applied a little dab of cream rouge to her lips and cheeks to give herself a healthy glow. Perhaps if she looked more alive then it would show up how undead her companion looked.</p><p>The nun admired her reflection in the mirror, something she did so seldomly. She didn’t look like herself all dressed up in such finery. Being called his wife, it was a good thing, she didn’t want to be that title so at least she could look like she was only wearing a disguise.</p><p>Turning her neck to the side, a gasp escaped her lips at the ghastly scar that now marred her pale throat. How dare he mark her so? She was not his.<br/>
Artfully she hid it with a few wavy tendrils of chestnut hair.</p><p>“Agatha” Dracula called with a firm knock to cabin door,<br/>
“I hope you’re ready for dinner, I’m absolutely ravenous” He said and she could picture his stupid grin as he spoke.</p><p>Rolling her hazel eyes, he did love to bring up his particular tastes as often as possible, she put on a teardrop sapphire and diamond necklace that gently graced her sharp collarbones and matched her mock wedding ring perfectly, along with a spritz of some expensive smelling perfume which oddly enough was exactly to her tastes, not too sweet more spicy and florale, before opening the door to him.</p><p>The Count had expected her to refuse his offer of dinner, yet there she was and good-whatever, was she ever.</p><p>Gone was the bitter nun in her place stood the Queen of the Night in all her splendor.<br/>
She had chosen the midnight blue gown with its full skirt and black lace trimming along the slightly puffed sleeves, and scooped off the shoulder neckline which accented her sharp shoulders and delicate long neck.<br/>
He wasn’t even bothered that she had hidden his little love bite as she had complimented his favorite piece of her with the glimmering sapphire necklace.<br/>
He had had it specially made by a royal French jeweler for no particular reason before he killed the man.<br/>
Now it had finally been put to good use.</p><p>The sharpness of her features was softened by the waves of silky hair which fell partly down her shoulders while the rest was piled on top of her head.</p><p>“Yes” She snapped before grinning at his shocked appearance,</p><p>“Watch out Count, you’ll catch flies if you keep your mouth open like that” She teased playfully, though an abundance of flies did always seem to follow him around.</p><p>“Yes. Well you certainly cleaned up alright for an old nun” He retorted, offering her his hand,<br/>
“Shall we?”</p><p>“We shall” She replied with a smile, placing her black gloved hand lightly in his.</p><p>Let the games begin. Good thing she was starving.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Dear reader,</p><p>Hope you enjoyed. As per usual a kudos and comment are greatly appreciated.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Dinner Date</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tired of the Count’s nonsense, Agatha now has to deal with a dinner date in polite society while still trying to thwart his plans.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Devoting her life to God had not left her much opportunity to experience courting.<br/>
Even before joining the order, no men had ever shown any interest in her besides to insult her mercilessly.</p><p>Therefore she found herself quite out of her depth with her current predicament.<br/>
She resented and hated the damned vampire for dragging her into this mess and giving her no choice, not even the will, in the matter. Although deep down a part was of her was deliriously giddy with the prospect of dining with an undeniably handsome man, even if he was a beast behind the veneer of sophistication.</p><p>“You’re already dressed?” </p><p>The Count was all dressed up as if he were a fine gentleman heading to the opera.<br/>
A black tailcoat with a crisp white shirt with starched collar and satin waistcoat. It looked much less like someone had just died than his usual attire but she was certain that wouldn’t last long.</p><p>“I have my own cabin...” He shrugged,</p><p>“What? You didn’t think we’d have to share that tiny bed, did you? Agatha, you naughty girl” He replied with a teasing smirk.</p><p>She was surprisingly brazen for a nun, none of that piety that disagreed with him terribly.</p><p>Her cheeks flushed, she hadn’t thought that all, she had only assumed so because he claimed that they were to behave as a married couple did. Not that she wanted to go along with that but she didn’t currently have a choice in the matter. And she certainly hadn’t implied anything more than simply sharing a room.</p><p>Her full silk skirts swished around her legs, nearly tripping her, as he lead her into the dining room. Some of the other passengers were having aperitif drinks.</p><p>“Go socialize” Dracula gestured towards the young blonde she had seen on deck when they arrived. She was sitting on a plush velvet chair to one corner of the room.</p><p>Agatha looked at him helplessly. Sure she hated his guts but at least she knew him. Being a nun, she had never socialized with nobility, she didn’t have the first clue on how to strike up a conversation with those sorts of snobby women. </p><p>But he had already gone to play with his food at the small makeshift bar. </p><p>Walking over with as much grace as she could muster,</p><p>“Countess Dracula, isn’t it?” The lady  asked.</p><p>She seemed the same age as Mina and looked bored out of her mind. </p><p>“Yes but please do call me Agatha” She replied, she must certainly didn’t want to have to go by that title all evening.</p><p>“Then call me Dorabella.” </p><p>Agatha took that as her welcome cue and sat down on an armchair next to her.</p><p>“I just got married, this is my honeymoon” Dorabella sighed. </p><p>“Congratulations”</p><p>“Don’t..I mean..well it’s not supposed to be like this is it?”</p><p>“I really wouldn’t be the best judge on..”</p><p>“But you’re married. Surely you must have had your own honeymoon. And you two seem so happy”</p><p>Was she doing things she didn’t realize? Because she didn’t think anything she had done would give the impression of an overtly happy couple. Perhaps it was his control at work. She really needed to figure a way past that.</p><p>At her visible surprise, the girl added,</p><p>“I mean he keeps throwing glances at you” </p><p>It was his behavior not her own. Certainly it must be just another one of his games, simply keeping an eye on her to make sure that she behaved herself.</p><p>“Oh..I suppose we’ve been married a longtime..it isn’t always easy, I’m sure yours will sort itself out” Agatha reassured which seemed to calm the young woman’s worries. Glancing over at the Count who appeared far more interested in the lady’s husband than his false wife. </p><p>The smell of food and clatter of trays alerted them before it was announced that dinner was being served.</p><p>“I don’t think I have the stomach for food, it was lovely meeting you, goodnight Countess” Dorabella said before departing for her cabin.</p><p>“As it was you, goodnight” Agatha replied before going to join her supposed husband at his table.</p><p>Sitting herself, he smiled almost proudly. </p><p>“What are you grinning at?” </p><p>“You. You’re blossoming into such a lovely flower” </p><p>She rolled her eyes as one of the deckhands came to serve them wine. A glass of indulgence for her and nothing for him. He didn’t drink wine, Mister Harker had mentioned it. Not that she did either, only at holy communion. She seemed to doing that a lot lately, doing things she normally wouldn’t do. His influence undoubtedly. </p><p>“Why are you dining with the passengers? You don’t eat” </p><p>“I enjoy the company, it’s nice to meet new people”</p><p>”Then why do you..um..?”

</p><p>Then why did he kill them? She couldn’t seem to get the word out, it was right on the tip of her tongue.</p><p>”Why do you pick flowers?”</p><p>”People aren’t flowers”</p><p>“Of course they are. Beautiful in their fragility and ephemerality. Such as lovely Dorabella..” He rolled her name on his tongue, “Or her poncey husband” </p><p>“You wouldn’t?”</p><p>“Wouldn’t what, darling wife?”</p><p>“You know very well what I mean. It’s too claustrophobic, someone will catch you” She snapped quietly.</p><p>If someone caught him gorging himself on the passengers then who knew what manner of chaos would erupt. She couldn’t have herself dragged down with him. And of course she didn’t want him killing any innocent people onboard.</p><p>“Why? Are you worried? Don’t be, I’m very discreet”</p><p>That wasn’t at all reassuring. It surely meant that he did intend to kill the other passengers while she was unable to save them.</p><p>”Discreet certainly isn’t something I would call you”</p><p>He was anything but. Loud and obnoxious. The Count liked to make his presence and status known.</p><p>”No? Then what would you call me?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.</p><p>Agatha knew rightly what she would call him. A few choice words jumped to mind. A brewing of swirling pain kept her quiet.</p><p>As her meal of chicken paprika and potatoes was served, she realized how starving she was. Tucking in, she didn’t notice how jittery he was becoming. </p><p>He strummed his fingers on the tablecloth as he watched her and the other passengers gorge themselves on their meals. And wine, so similar to the blood pumping through their veins, the thump taunting him. He had barely eaten, only a quick snack on his travel meal earlier on. He was starving.</p><p>“Agatha.. go back to our cabin, you look ill, the carriage journey was too much for you. I’ll bring you something to eat later” He instructed with a slight snarl, still trying to play the dotting husband.</p><p>She was enjoying her meal even if it was a little over the top on the paprika, she didn’t want to leave the table. Yet as if a switch was flicked in her head, she felt herself standing.</p><p>“You’re right, I’ll see you later darling” She nodded in agreement as he squeezed the key into her hand and left.</p><p>Her feet carried her all the way back to her cabin all by themselves.<br/>
Closing the cabin door shut, she cursed the blasted Count for taking her free will away without her even noticing.</p><p>Tearing off the god awful confection of a dress and the torture contraption that was the corset, she wiped the rouge away furiously with a dampened cloth, which only served to make her face redder.</p><p>How dare he take away her freedom? Kill her sisters and leave her no choice but to submit to all his demands.<br/>
She had refused to submit to any man, even God, for she was constantly going against him, which was what had gotten her into this mess in the first place.</p><p>Slumping down onto the rickety chair, she pulled her hair back to calm her face with cold water from the basin. The scar caught her attention before she could.<br/>
It was glaringly obvious, a raised, crooked line of pale flesh. Luckily she had been no great beauty beforehand but even still, she wasn’t at pleased with it.</p><p>Her less vain mind, wondered how it healed so quickly, no scab or dried blood. She traced it lightly. </p><p>So certain of death and all that came with it, the nun had expected excruciating pain as the vampire drained her very life from her. Yet all she felt was a tiny pinch and then a wave of euphoria had washed over and she was dreaming of something warm that she couldn’t quite remember, it was all terribly murky, as it usually was when one tried to recall a dream hours later. </p><p>However she remembered the sensation before perfectly. His firm, domineering grip on her shoulder, like Death pulling her in; His breath fanning her throat, surprisingly warm... It had sent shivers through her body that she couldn’t dismiss as pure fear. There was something else. Something more which she had only ever felt before while indulging secretly in shameful popular novels...</p><p>Agatha splashed her face with water to wash away such impure thoughts. He was a murderous beast, that was what she had to remember.</p><p>With her hair loose to hid the offending mark, she dressed into the most modest white nightgown and climbed into her bunk.</p><p>Its scratchy sheets and board like mattress reminded her of the convent, offering her both comfort and resolve.</p><p>No matter how much the Count tried to stop her, he was only slowing her down for she would eventually thwart his nefarious plans no matter what it took. To redeem herself and reach her sisters once again. She just had to figure a way of ending his control on her mind.</p><p>She dozed off dreaming of ways to escape and vanquish him once and for all.</p><p> </p><p>—————————</p><p> </p><p>The Bavarian sailor and the Grand Duchess of Augsburg in one night. It had been quite the feast.</p><p>Dracula was so full, he was quite certain his shirt buttons might pop.<br/>
And to top it all off, he returned to the cabin to find Agatha peacefully sound asleep.<br/>
Her long hair splayed across the pillow, the gentle rise and fall of her chest, the faintest smile on her lips as her brow furrowed. What was she dreaming of? Probably something she shouldn’t be, knowing her. </p><p>Kneeling down at her bedside, he could smell the lingering hint of perfume mingling tantalizingly with her natural scent. He leaned in, much like the handsome prince in those silly fairytales, and gave her something to dream about. After all he was on vacation, he could allow himself a little dessert.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Dear reader,</p><p>Thank you so much for all the kudos and comments! They really mean a lot and are very helpful in my writing.</p><p>I thought this was quite an appropriate chapter given the upcoming holiday.<br/>Though I don’t think Agatha is really getting into the season of love.</p><p>As always comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Foreboding</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Slowly deciphering her mind control, Agatha is more and more worried about the continued survival of the other passenger as Dracula’s greed lacks restraint.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>Varna to Whitby<br/>
Off the coast of Greece<br/>
1897</em> </p><p>Her skin feels as if it were on fire, molten lava pooling beneath her flesh. Twisting and turning, she can’t seem to shake off the heavy blanket that has surely ensnared her.</p><p>Her eyes adjust to the daylight. She is no longer in her cabin on the scratchy bunk where she drifted off to sleep.<br/>
No, she is once again surrounded by an endless field of tulips.<br/>
The sky was tinted red by the flaming sun,  the light summer breeze gone, replaced by blazing heat, she can already feel the sweat forming on her brow.</p><p>The bloody tulips carry the faintest whiff of copper. Between the smell, hue and heat of the place, she is left gagging.</p><p>“This is a dream, isn’t it?” Agatha asked scowling at the Count as he sauntered towards her, for this was all his doing. </p><p>She already knew that it was, had guessed as much before.</p><p>“Of course” Dracula replied. </p><p>“People whose blood you drink, you make them dream. Mister Harker dreamt of Mina”</p><p>“The kiss of the vampire is an opiate, remember? They dream of whatever they want...only you dream of me, Agatha” He said almost softly. </p><p>In all his many years, his victims had always seen their loved ones in their last moments, while she saw only him in this world of her creation.</p><p><em>The kiss of the vampire is an opiate.</em> He had used that phrase before. When explaining his control over her mind. Did that mean that his control came with his bite? If so then maybe she could attempt to distract him so that she may regain her senses. But how on earth would she do that?</p><p>Why would she dream of him?<br/>
Perhaps because she had no one at all and he was currently her greatest preoccupation. </p><p>“That means nothing. Are you almost done? I’d like to wake up now” She asked nonchalantly.</p><p>“They do say breakfast is the most important meal of the day..but yes, I’m done”</p><p> </p><p>————————</p><p> </p><p>His irritating grin is her waking sight. His lips and chin stained with her blood.</p><p>“Wipe your face, you eat like a messy child” </p><p>The sickly smell of blood was too much too soon after waking.</p><p>Dracula stood, pulling a crisp white handkerchief from his pocket. He wiped his mouth, ruining the pure white with scarlet.</p><p>“Thank you for that, it was delicious as always”</p><p>“My pleasure” She said sitting up.</p><p>“You were so peaceful, I didn’t want to wake you so I brought you breakfast in bed”</p><p>He presented her with a silver platter of porridge with honey, an apple and some bread.</p><p>“So thoughtful..” She said staring at it suspiciously.</p><p>Why on God’s earth did he care if she ate or not? Maybe he had poisoned her food to play some awful, childish trick on her. More than likely he just wanted to maintain her strengths so she could maintain his.</p><p>“Don’t worry, I didn’t touch it, it isn’t to my tastes” The Count grinned as he sat down on the edge of the bed watching her eat almost curiously.</p><p>It had been so long since he had kept the company of mortals for any length of time. He had forgotten how needy they were. He would have to remember to feed and exercise her. </p><p>His fixated gaze was a tad of putting but she was too hungry and groggy to really care.<br/>
She wondered how long it had been since he had been around people before Mister Harker’s ill fated stay at his home. </p><p>“Since you’re so unwell, I thought you could stay here and relax”</p><p>“You’re imprisoning me in this cabin?”</p><p>Clearly keeping to the story he had weaved in order to have her under lock and key. </p><p>“I can’t have you cramping my style anymore” </p><p>The nun rolled her eyes, he was ridiculous but at least she wouldn’t have to deal with him or the other passengers.</p><p>“Don’t be like that. I don’t mind that you’re a frumpy nun” He teased playfully.</p><p>“And I do care that you’re an irritating vampire so get out of my cabin. Go have your fun” She retorted glaring at him. </p><p>It seemed to do the trick as he left with a chuckle.</p><p>She set about getting ready for the day, not that anyone was likely to see her. She forwent the rouge this time, opting for just a little perfume. She dressed as simply as possible, in a high necked cream blouse with lace details and the navy skirt. </p><p>As though she were a doll, he had picked out all her clothing. A child with a new toy. Hopefully he would soon tire of her and leave her alone long enough for her to regain her wits. Though it would be at the expense of the other passengers. </p><p>The food had seemed like an afterthought, as he hadn’t cared about ruining her dinner the night before.<br/>
Accepting food from the Devil himself, she was surely just as damned as her predecessor. Starving would have been the better choice but Agatha wasn’t a very good nun, she hadn’t really reached to point of holy fasting. </p><p>A knock at her door,</p><p>“Countess Dracula? It is Captain Sokolov”</p><p>What did he want? Surely he must have known she was ill. She opened the door,</p><p>“Yes Captain? Is there a bother?”</p><p>“I need to check your cabin, two people went missing last night”</p><p>“Missing? How could two people go missing?”</p><p>“I don’t know which is why I’m checking everywhere onboard”</p><p>“Of course” She said letting him look around the small room.</p><p>“May I ask who has disappeared?”</p><p>“The Grand Duchess of Augsburg and the helmsman” </p><p>Damn vampire. Two people in one night. That was beyond greedy. And why a simple sailor? Surely he was of no interest. The aristocrat, of course, was perfectly suited to his refined palate. </p><p>“Well everything is clear here. Sorry for bothering you Countess”</p><p>“It wasn’t a bother. Good day Captain” </p><p>The wiry bearded man nodded and left.</p><p>Two people had been killed and it was her fault. She shouldn’t have fallen asleep the night before, should have stayed awake till he came back or gone and looked for him. Not that she could stop him, she had no weapons and her mind was working against her. </p><p>Her powerlessness infuriated her beyond words. She was furious with him too but mostly with herself. How dare she be so arrogant as to taunt him? So stupid as to make a deal with him? She may have saved Mina but was one life worth more than the lives of all aboard the Demeter? How could one decide the value of the life of an innocent person? </p><p>To avoid driving herself mad with guilt for that would be of no help, she picked up a book he had left. A travel guide to England. Best to familiarize herself with the land she was traveling to. </p><p> </p><p>————————</p><p> </p><p>Sometime in the afternoon, he reappeared. Entering as if he expected some fanfare.</p><p>She ignored him. His ego feed off attention, to deny it was the best punishment she could think of. </p><p>“Time for some fresh air, you’ve been cooped up here for hours”</p><p>“No. And it’s daylight, how are you supposed to go out?”</p><p>“You’ll see...why not?”</p><p>“Why do you think?”</p><p>His blank expression spoke volumes. Such was his lack of remorse that he genuinely believed he had done nothing to annoy her.</p><p>“You killed two people last night. Two in one night. You’re a pig. What need did you have for a sailor?”</p><p>“For his charming Bavarian accent. It was the only thing interesting about him”</p><p>“For his accent? Might have been a little wasteful?” She asked.</p><p>To kill a man only for his voice, he was even more greedy that she had imagined. At this rate there would be no one left on the ship but them. </p><p>“Do you have no self-control?”</p><p>Of course he did, he hadn’t survived this long without some, but he wouldn’t flatter her with an answer.<br/>
Dracula didn’t understand why she was so shocked. He had decimated her convent simply because she had taunted him. As she said, he was nothing more than a beast.</p><p>“Come now, Agatha, we’re going for a walk” He said firmly, tiring of her silly morals. </p><p>She nearly managed to refuse but there was still that nagging pain at the back of her skull which had her complying to his demand.</p><p>Taking his arm, he lead through the creaking ship all the way out of the hull and above onto the deck. </p><p>But to her surprise, the afternoon sun was obscured by a thick layer of grey fog.</p><p>He lead her along the deck towards the bow. </p><p>“The fog, your doing?</p><p>“Yes”</p><p>“Interesting” She hummed as she leaned on the worn wooden railings, looking out at the sea hidden by the thick fog. But she could hear its gentle crash against the bow and feel the spray on her cheeks.</p><p>“In what way?”</p><p>“Useful in blocking out the sunlight, I would have thought”</p><p>“You know what they say, always take the weather with you” He said with a grin.</p><p>But some sun was still peaking through, it wasn’t utter darkness like the night. Did that mean only direct sunlight could kill him? </p><p>No other passengers were on the deck, too frightened by the disappearances. </p><p>They toured the deck in companionable silence. Agatha lost to her ponders of different vampire legends compared to what she has observed from the Count so far. And Dracula watching her as she thinks, the slight crease of her brows, her teeth pulling at her bottom lip. </p><p>When the hidden sun began to set, they returned to her cabin. </p><p>“What are you going to do now?” She asked curiously standing in the doorway.</p><p>Surely he wouldn’t return to the dining room, surely someone was bound to notice that he didn’t eat or drink anything.</p><p>“Well the night is warm and full of possibilities. I’m sure I’ll find someway to amuse myself...” He said, eyes twinkling with mischief. </p><p>That didn’t bode well but she was powerless to stop him.

</p><p>”Don’t kill anyone else” She said firmly.</p><p>”Or what?”</p><p>Or what indeed? She couldn’t do anything. But she would be able to and then she would show no mercy in ending his reign of terror. For now, she would bide her time and not make the mistake of taunting him again.</p><p>At her lack of response, he grinned, he had won, she was stumped.</p><p>“Goodnight Agatha”</p><p>“Goodnight Count Dracula” She replied but he was already gone. She closed her door and then readied herself for bed. </p><p>Lying on her bunk, she twisted and turned, uncomfortably warm, a sense of foreboding heavy in the humid air.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Dear reader,</p><p>Thank you for your continued support of this story.<br/>As always, a kudos and comment are greatly appreciated.<br/>Also tell me anything you’d like to see in upcoming chapters!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Hiding in Plain Sight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A third disappearance sends the passengers of the Demeter into a spin and Agatha is still unable to set them right.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There was a languid contentedness weighting her body down against the firm mattress.<br/>
For the first time in three days, Agatha wakes to nothing but an empty cabin, the hazy morning sun casting the room in a delicate glow. </p><p>She stretched and wiped the sleep from her eyes, so well rested that her mind felt peacefully sharper.<br/>
The Count had not returned during the night, had not feed on her since the morning before. </p><p>Surely that meant another passenger had probably met their demise. Hopefully their death would not be in vain, a necessary sacrifice to allow her to regain her senses.</p><p>Once dressed, the vampire still having not made his entrance, she wondered if she was finally free. Her mind certainly felt far less cloudy.<br/>
To test it, she went to the cabin door, a polished pine wood with a brass handle. Reaching out, fully expecting a shockwave of swirling pain, she was pleasantly surprised to find none as she grasped the cool metal doorknob.</p><p>It turns. Poking her head outside, looking down either side of the hallway, the coast was clear, no bloodthirsty creature in sight.</p><p>Taking the right, she walked towards the lounge come dining room where she could hear men arguing.</p><p>“What about Lisbon?” The mountainous one-handed cook asked.</p><p>She pushed open the door, slipping her way around the gathered remaining passengers, to a seat at the back near a window.</p><p>A simmering unspoken panic permeated the air, all the passengers and crew members muttering amongst themselves, wondering who would disappear next.</p><p>“Lisbon’s two days away” One deckhand argued over a map.</p><p>They all seemed terribly on edge, arguing about where to go. Docking would be advisable but then again that would just mean that Dracula would have free-run of more people.</p><p>“We go on to England and double the watch. No one’s to walk the decks alone, understood?” Captain Sokolov interjected firmly leaving no room for arguing.</p><p>“Aye sir.” The crew members replied less than enthusiastically. No one wished to remain onboard a ship which stunk of Death any longer than they had to, but the Captain’s orders were final.</p><p>Well at least there would be no mutiny, yet.</p><p>“We are forced to assume that there is a murderer on board. We can, I fear, place no trust anywhere.” The worn Captain said regretfully.</p><p>There was indeed a murderer on board, a bloody vampire yet they were all blind to what was right in front their eyes. And she, despite her success with the door, was still powerless to do anything.<br/>
Her mind swirled as she tried her hardest to speak out against the Count.</p><p>Dracula knelt down by the doctor and his charge, daughter perhaps, she wasn’t sure. All she knew was that didn’t she didn’t like her mock husband’s sickly sweet words. </p><p>“Now, young lady, you seem particularly upset. Did you see something which alarmed you?” Dracula asked softly , placing at gentle hand on the young girl’s arm.</p><p>“She can’t hear you. She only understands sign language.” The Doctor replied. </p><p>“That is a language I must acquire...sometime.” He said standing up and stepping away from the pair.</p><p>What need would he have for a language that few used or even knew?<br/>
The sole benefit to him drinking the girl’s blood was that hopefully he gain her muteness. That would afford the poor nun some peace and quiet for a little while.</p><p>“This is more than murder. There is evil at work on board this ship. Look out there.” A sailor with a thick Russian accent said, gesturing towards the window,<br/>
“Look at it. What sort of fog follows a ship?” </p><p>A very irritating fog that was what sort. She still hadn’t figured out how he had managed to produce that. There had never been any mention of vampires being able to control the weather in her tomes.</p><p>“I agree, there is evil at work, but surely it’s a very human evil.” The Count argued, seemingly reasonable compared to the superstitious sailor.</p><p>Of course he blamed it on humans, not the undead killer running amuck or anything like that. </p><p>Agatha watched on like a spectator at some awful play where the criminal is hiding under the table, visible to all but the other actors on stage. And one watches on in annoyed amusement as the actors search him out but never bother to peak under the tablecloth no matter how much one shouts to do just that.</p><p>“Three people are dead.” The man argued.</p><p>Dead. Drained of their blood. Possibly even ripped to shreds depending on what mood the Count was in. She wondered what he had done with the bodies, surely he hadn’t polished off three entire people, he didn’t eat human flesh to her knowledge. He had probably just thrown them overboard. Tossed away like trash.<br/>
And who was his third victim? At a glance around the room, the only person missing was Lady Ruthven, but maybe it had been a deckhand.</p><p>”Three people are missing.” Dracula pointed out, lying perfectly.</p><p>He certainly could spin a pretty tale, the poor rough seaman didn’t stand a chance, even if he was rather close to the truth.<br/>
Everyone else would refuse to believe him simple because it seemed far too unbelievable. How often people ignored the obvious truth for something that fit within their restricted beliefs. </p><p>“And where did they go? Did they sprout wings and fly away?” The sailor asked incredulously.</p><p>“What a ridiculous idea.” The Count laughed.</p><p>So ridiculous yet she had seen him fly away in a flurry of bats before so it wasn’t totally impossible. His smile was far too smug for her liking, how she wished she could punch it of his stupid face. He seemed to be enjoying himself, playing the voice of reason in the midst of unease. </p><p>“Dark forces.” The man muttered. </p><p>“Those dark forces took my Dorabella” Lord Ruthven exclaimed sadly. </p><p>Poor girl. She had seemed so miserable before. What use could she have been? She was far too young and naive, oblivious to some rather glaringly obvious facts about her husband, who now actively eyed her murderer despite his deep mourning. Not to mention his man servant who was constantly at his side. Even a nun could see what was going on there. At least Dorabella would not have to suffer the inevitable martial disappointment. </p><p>“I find it hard to credit that any supernatural entity would leave that quantity of blood behind, unless, of course, it has drunk its fill” The vampire continued. </p><p>Agatha rolled her hazel eyes at him from her corner. It only took three people in less nights for him to be finally satisfied. He had drunk more than his fill, he had been gluttonous.<br/>
No one had ever said that the supernatural entity was drinking blood, who knew maybe it was eating the corpses. If only the passengers knew about vampires. He was practically giving away the clues himself. </p><p>“So gentlemen and woman” He said glancing at Agatha, “There is a killer on board. In plain sight...or hiding”</p><p>In plain sight? He was standing right there in front of them, his arms outstretched, as pleased as pie.<br/>
It was almost laughable how arrogant he was being. Knowing him, he was probably getting a kick out of just skating the truth and watching them try helplessly clamber to figure out who had done the deed. He seemed to take perverse pleasure in sowing fear and paranoia amongst the passengers. </p><p>She wanted to point her figure at him, scream what he was from the high hills. Yet she could do nothing. The more she wanted to, the more her mind spun in agony. She pinched the bridge of her nose in attempts to relieve it like some incessant headache. </p><p>“We’ll search everywhere. No on can stay hidden long on a ship this size.” </p><p>No, certainly not when they weren’t even trying to hid. </p><p>The passengers and crew nodded their agreement, still wiling to follow their captain’s orders for the time being. Murmuring amongst themselves, they headed off in groups to search the ship. </p><p>“I’ll accompany you back to the cabin” Dracula said offering her his hand up from her chair which she snubbed, standing herself before taking his arm.</p><p>Being the only woman left and supposedly ill, she wasn’t expected or allowed to help with the search. </p><p>“Countess Dracula” The Doctor said.</p><p>“Yes, I’m sorry I didn’t get your name” Agatha said.</p><p>“I’m Doctor Sharma, I was wondering if you could take my daughter, Yamini back to your cabin. I don’t want to leave her alone in ours while I help the search”</p><p>She had no choice but to watch the girl, at least she might be able to protect her.</p><p>“Of course, I’ll take good care of her” </p><p>“Thank you” He replied before signing to the young girl what was happening, she nodded and followed the couple back to their cabin.</p><p>She stuck closely to the nun’s side, avoiding all eye contact with the Count.<br/>
Agatha figured that poor child had probably seen him feeding which would be terrifying for even the strongest of men.</p><p>“Mm..seems I’m not the best with children” He mused at the child’s fear.</p><p>“Who would’ve guessed?” Agatha said.</p><p>He was the least child friendly thing she could imagine, yet Mister Harker had claimed he wished to reproduce. Ha. Him, a father, now that was a preposterous idea.</p><p>“What did you do to her?” She asked.</p><p>“Nothing. She just poked her noise in something that wasn’t her business”</p><p>“And Dorabella? Did she just get in your way as well?”</p><p>“She was beautiful and well, you are what you eat” He chuckled.</p><p>She snorted at that, that clearly hadn’t helped, he was still as beastly as before.</p><p>“Oh Agatha, you aren’t jealous are you? I may be a fool for youth and beauty but there’s more to a person than their aspect” Dracula said looking at her wistfully.</p><p>Why on God’s earth would she be jealous? It wasn’t if she wanted to be murdered by him, and she most certainly didn’t want his constant attentions. No, she would rather be hideously ugly and alive than beautiful and dead.</p><p>“Very true. You may look like a handsome gentleman but you’re soul is rotten and black” She said. </p><p>Behind his mask, he was nothing more than a grotesque beast that should have remained hidden in the shadows yet now walked amongst Men.</p><p>“You think I’m handsome? Agatha, I’m flattered..” He said putting his hand to his dead heart in mock humility.</p><p>Of course that was all he gathered from what she had said, never one to look at the negatives.</p><p>“You know what I mean. Objectively speaking” She snapped, the very last thing he needed was a compliment to inflate his already enormous ego. She didn’t want the ship to sink. </p><p>He hummed not believing her. She could backtrack all she wanted, he knew that she truly thought he was handsome, or a part of her did, deep, deep, down behind a very thin wall. He had knew all, he had drank her blood after all.</p><p>Reaching the cabin door, he turned to her,</p><p>“Well this is where I leave you. Don’t miss me too much, I promise to return to you safely” He said valiantly.</p><p>“As if you’re in any danger..” She sighed. He was the danger.</p><p>“Who knows with you about..” He said with a chuckle as he left to go help with the search. </p><p>He wasn’t wrong. The minute her mind cleared fully, she would try and stop him, killing him if necessary. Would it even really be murder since he was already dead?<br/>
Not that God would likely care, her sins far outnumbered one for murder. But hopefully stopping him, the Devil’s messenger on Earth, would be enough to redeem her.</p><p>The young Indian girl had watched them in curiosity, oblivious to what they were saying. </p><p>Agatha lead her inside the cabin, she seemed relieved once the Count had left.</p><p>“You can sit down and wait till your father gets back” She said gesturing towards the rickety desk chair, which the girl did.</p><p>How dare he leave her. She could help search, even if it was pointless. She hated the sensation of helplessness so commonly associated with her gender.<br/>
Not that she had been feeling it all the time since meeting the vampire. Her one moment of power at the gates for days of powerlessness. It hadn’t been worth it.</p><p>Agatha paced up and down the tiny room like a caged lioness. Desperately she tried to think of a way she could save the passenger onboard the ship which was surely bound for hell, if they weren’t already in it. </p><p>She couldn’t afford to another innocent soul on her conscience, especially not the little girl who she now watched over.</p><p>She knelt down in front of her,</p><p>“Yamini, can you understand anything I say?” She asked.</p><p>The lack of response was enough of an answer. </p><p>“Right, well, Count Dracula..” She began, how could she show what she meant?<br/>
How yes her fake wedding ring, did they have those India? She hoped they did.<br/>
Showing off her left hand with the glistening sapphire ring,<br/>
“He’s a vampire. Do this to stop him” She continued doing the sign of the cross with her fingers.</p><p>Yamini watched her utterly bewildered, she just hoped the child would understand the if it ever came to it. </p><p> </p><p>—————————</p><p> </p><p>Some time later, a knock on the door alerted them to the return of the men.<br/>
She hoped the Doctor was alright and that Dracula hadn’t gotten peckish during the search.</p><p>Opening the door revealed both men to her relief.</p><p>Doctor Sharma signed to Yamini who stood and went to him, giving the other man, or rather beast, a wide berth.</p><p>“Thank you for watching my daughter” He said before leaving.</p><p>Closing the door after them, the Count grinned,</p><p>“Well unfortunately we found no one hiding in the hull.”</p><p>“No? What a surprise.” Agatha said rolling her eyes, he really was terribly ridiculous.</p><p>She sat down on the bed and he on the creaky chair. Watching him, his gloating grin, she had to knock him down a few pegs.</p><p>“Pig” She said abruptly with a teasing smile. </p><p>“Sorry?”</p><p>“Well, four weeks to England, and you’ve already polished off three people in two nights, like a fox in a hen coop”</p><p>“Like a connoisseur in a wine cellar” He argued,</p><p>“One chooses one’s vintages with care, the red and the whites. I enjoy both the duchess and the deckhand” He added, gesticulating.</p><p>“But you’re careful with your diet?” She said curiously.</p><p>“Well, I have to be. Otherwise I’ll reach England with the social skills of Bulgarian sailor”</p><p>“But not with your waistline. You are gorging yourself. Fox, hen coop” She pointed out.</p><p>“Pig, truffles”</p><p>At least he admitted to being a pig. That was a small win for her.</p><p>“At this rate, there’ll be no one left to sail the ship. And don’t expect me to, I don’t know how” She chuckled slightly.</p><p>Not that she was even certain he would be keeping her alive for that long. </p><p>“I can get by with a skeleton crew. I’ve worked with them before.” He reassured.</p><p>His self-assurance set her uneasy, surely that could not bode well for anyone. With four weeks still remaining and a crew that was starting to panic, a storm was assuredly brewing on the horizon and Agatha had forgotten unfortunately her umbrella.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Dear reader,</p><p>Hope you enjoyed this chapter.<br/>Of course, as always, please do kudos and comment so I can keep this story going!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. A False Sense of Security</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>With no sign of the killer onboard, the passengers are left in tense paranoia.<br/>Boredom leads to strange friendships.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Varna to Whitby<br/>
Off the East coast of Spain<br/>
1897</em>
</p><p>The squares of the board echoed the struggle taking place abroad the Demeter; the Light against the Darkness; Heaven versus Hell, and she was emissary of the former.</p><p>The daily searches of the ship proving each more fruitless than the last, the passengers had begun to grow suspicious of everything and everyone.<br/>
They now only saw one another during searches and in the dining room where conversation had been significantly dampened by mistrust in the two weeks that had passed.</p><p>Thus her time was spent either bored in the cabin with innocent Yamini who she had grown fond of.<br/>
The girl knew how to read and thanks to a few sign language pointers from her father, they had been able to somewhat communicate about what they read. But oftentimes they just sat in silent companionship.</p><p>The rest of the time, she spent sat on the wooden floor of her cabin, playing games with him.</p><p>She fingered a black pawn impatiently, waiting for her opponent’s next move, but her expression remained amusedly cold. Her elbow resting on her crossed legs, she held her chin. </p><p>What had her life come to? Playing a game with a vampire. This was not she had expected when joining the order.<br/>
Surprisingly, when he wasn’t draining the blood of innocent victims, he was decent enough company, quite content to listen to her ramble on about anything and everything as long as she listened equally to him. </p><p>“Checkmate” Dracula smiled smugly as his black rook knocked over her white king.  </p><p>“Oh yes, I suppose so..” She said setting the black pawn on the board.</p><p>“You weren’t paying attention. You nearly beat me last time”</p><p>“It was our tenth game”</p><p>“And yet you still haven’t improved.”</p><p>“You’ve been playing for centuries, no amount practice can measure up to that.” She pointed out to which he all but shrugged grinning.</p><p>The more time spent in his presence, the more she began to grasp the scope of his knowledge. And that her mind had finally cleared of that awful fog, she could appreciate it.<br/>
Firsthand accounts of events she had only read about. The revolutionary artists of the Age of Illumination, great monarchs and even some of her favorite writers... He knew so much of value about all of them. </p><p>“Another match?”</p><p>“No, I’m done for tonight.” She said stretching while he tided away the board.</p><p>The Count stood brushing his black tailored pants down before offering her his hand.</p><p>“Thank you.” She said taking it as he pulled her up to stand.</p><p>Not anticipating his own strength, Agatha ended up at a hair’s breath, facing his broad chest. </p><p>She tilted her head up to gaze into his dark eyes, though on closer inspection she could see the dreamed honey specks. </p><p>“We should get to the deck.” She said.</p><p>“Yes.” He agreed releasing her smooth hand, the whisper of warmth lingering on his dead skin.</p><p> </p><p>———————</p><p> </p><p>“Trust once lost cannot easily be restored. I know that. But we’ve all searched this ship from prow to stern. There’s no sign of our missing friends. We’re all agreed?” Captain Sokolov said, perched above the gathered passengers on a crate. </p><p>Their leader had only become more haggard as the days went on. The looming threat of death or desertion taking their toll.</p><p>“Which means only one thing.” The Count said almost gleeful.</p><p>“I’m afraid so. It’s one of us.” He nodded gravely. </p><p>“It’s clear what we must do. We must go on to England, and we’ll hand this matter over to the authorities. If we stick together and we’re all careful. If no one is alone....” Doctor Sharma said. </p><p>With still half their journey to go, that seemed like an awfully optimistic answer.<br/>
No trusted anyone anymore.</p><p>A scream of pain and the dry crack of the deck stole their attention. </p><p>A deckhand was sprawled across the planks, groaning in agony as he gripped his leg.</p><p>“Must have fallen from the moonrakers.” Sokolov said jumping into action. </p><p>“Jesus.” Olgaren muttered.</p><p>“Over here.” One man called.</p><p>The rest of the crew follow suite, crowding around the injured man, shouting orders and preparing to move him. </p><p>“Dr.Sharma?” The Captain said.</p><p>“I’m no surgeon.” The Doctor said shying away from the injured man.</p><p>Yet the groans and moans of pain were not her main concern as she glanced up at her companion.<br/>
The wound is bloody mess, bone poking out and while the gathered crowd avert their gazes and gasp in horror, he ravenously eyes the sailor like a starved man eyes a prime steak.<br/>
He advanced with predatorily grace. </p><p>“Fetch Valentin. Get him below.” Sokolov ordered.</p><p>“Quickly, he’s bleeding.” Dracula mumbled, paused as if remembering suddenly where he was.</p><p>“Step away, man, if you can’t stand the sight of blood.” The captain said.</p><p>How wrong they were, he adored the stuff and right then she could feel him beginning to lose his control, the perfectly constructed veneer falling. He couldn’t control himself in the presence of blood.</p><p>“Come, Darling, let’s return to our cabin.” Agatha said gently tugging on his woolen sleeve.<br/>
Coxing him away from the scene, he still sniffed the air like a hungry dog.<br/>
Once in the hallway, away from preying eyes, she pushed him against the cabin doorway. </p><p>“You need to calm down. You can’t go attacking that man, not with everyone around” </p><p>His red rimmed eyes don’t seem to register her, his pupils dilated, his fangs peaking out beneath his lips. </p><p>Her palm connecting firmly with his cold cheek seemed to do the job. </p><p>“Snap out of it. This isn’t the time” She said firmly. </p><p>Dracula shook his head, clearing his mind. She was right, but had she really just slapped him?</p><p>“It’s not just sustenance, is it? It’s an addiction” She asked.</p><p>He couldn’t help but smile, though it surely came strangely with his current state. </p><p>Her look was perplexed, he seemed half crazed into starving frenzy and yet he smiled down at her almost fondly.</p><p>“After more than four hundred years, it’s nice to be understood.” He said gazing down at her. </p><p>“Oh, no, I haven’t understood you yet. Not completely.” She half-smiled back.</p><p>Despite all her study, there was still so much to learn about his kind. Was it even really a kind? Was he still a human, just dead and changed? Evolved as the scientists put it. </p><p>But she would in time, she had already gotten so far in so little time. One day she would understand him perfectly.<br/>
Dracula felt the intense pleasure and pain of being seen by someone, of knowing that they know you in all that you are and that there is nowhere to hide any longer.</p><p>“Go get some dinner, Agatha, I’ll join you in a bit” He said pushing her away from him, before sweeping off down the corridor.</p><p> </p><p>——————</p><p> </p><p>“Countess Dracula, is your husband not joining us for dinner this evening?” Lord Ruthven asked as she slipped into the dining room.</p><p>“No, my husband has a weak stomach, he’s staying in our cabin” She said taking her seat.</p><p>The Large cook served dinner and wine.</p><p>Her appetite ruined, her plate was pushed aside for a moral quandary.</p><p>Could she really blame him for all he had done when it was an addiction? An addiction he had no control over. Could he even keep himself from killing people?<br/>
She had seen the ravages addiction could reek, her dear uncle had lost all when he was down in his cups.<br/>
Could she justify killing a creature which was only following its untamable nature?<br/>
Then again he only lost his control when blood is already spilt. Quite often he was the one doing the spilling.</p><p>“Olgaren...Might I ask, do you normally have this many passengers?” Doctor Sharma asked.</p><p>“No. It is very strange. This is the most we’ve ever had, and the most wealthy” </p><p>“And Lord Ruthven is, I assume, the wealthiest. Why did you choose this ship?” </p><p>Doubtful, a centuries old vampire was bound to have acquired far more riches. She wondered if she had any right to that fortune as his supposed wife. Probably not.</p><p>“It was a recommendation from my business partner. I have a silent partner.” Lord Ruthven replied.</p><p>“Who recommends the Demeter?” Olgaren chuckled in disbelief.</p><p>Indeed it was a rather rundown little ship, far beneath the grandeur of a Lord.</p><p>“I didn’t think to question it.” He shrugged. </p><p>“Why not?” Doctor Sharma asked.</p><p>“Thanks to this partner’s sponsorship, Lord Ruthven, had the funds, and, uh, position to woo Dorabella. Lord Ruthven didn’t question anything.” Adisa said rolling his eyes.</p><p>Rather naive of him but people will do anything for money, for she doubted it was love in the poncey aristocrat’s case. His brief wife had been most miserable with her arrangement for his preoccupations clearly lay elsewhere.</p><p>“What does it matter? A ship is a ship. I’m sure Mister Balaur had his reasons.” Lord Ruthven said.</p><p>“What did you say? Balaur?” The Doctor asked confounded.</p><p>“Yes, my silent partner.”</p><p>“And my sponsor.”</p><p>“Well that is quite a coincidence.” Adisa muttered.</p><p>“Countess Dracula, do you or your husband have any connection to this Mister Balaur?” Doctor Sharma asked.</p><p>“I can’t say that I do, perhaps he’s just a very charitable man” She replied.</p><p>Ah, the beast revealed. Dracula, meaning in Latin little dragon, or Dracul meaning dragon and in Romanian, Balaur. He wasn’t at all discreet. She wondered if everyone else on board had been deprived of their brains? Surely someone should have noticed all his strange behavior and now even his name being a red flag.<br/>
She wondered what his first name was, it was never mentioned in any of the manuscripts she had read.<br/>
Though the Dracula part was inherited from his father, yet he had never progressed from little dragon, always remaining the corrupted diminutive. </p><p>“Yes. Perhaps just a coincidence” Doctor Sharma said ending that conversation and Agatha will to even bother trying with food.</p><p>Bidding her goodnights, she left, returning to her cabin. </p><p>The Count was already there, sitting on her bed, staring at the wood clad wall as if  it was the most fascinating object in the world.</p><p>“The purpose of an alias seems to have eluded you” She said with a smile as she sat next to him on the bed.</p><p>Much like sitting next to a statue, still and cold. Gone was the frenzied beast, though he had surely killed the injured sailor. What use was there in crying over spilt blood?</p><p>“What?” He asked perplexed.</p><p>“Mister Balaur, the Romanian for Dragon or Dracul in Latin”</p><p>“Oh..I thought it was clever” He sighed.</p><p>“Ah you’ll have to be cleverer than that. To feed off the civilized, you’ll have to learn to live with them first.”</p><p>He was civilized, he was a prince of sorts. But in regards to mortal habits, that was where she could help.<br/>
So far she had more than surpassed his every expectation.</p><p>“What even is your real name?” </p><p>“Count Dracula.” He said.</p><p>“Your Christian name”</p><p>He grimaced at that. Any reference to her God bothered him, like water to a cat. Or holy water to a vampire, which she had yet to test.</p><p>“Fine, your first name.”</p><p>“Now, Agatha, that would be telling.” He smirked mischievously.</p><p>“Keep to yourself then” She shrugged.</p><p>“I shall just have to assume it’s something terrible such Pubert or maybe simple like Christian” </p><p>“Vlad” He mumbled.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“My name. It’s Vlad Dracula, third of my name” </p><p>A long aristocratic line ending with a creature that drained the lives of his very counterparts much like they had their subjects. </p><p>“Appropriate for you”</p><p>“How so? Does it mean vampire?” He asked.</p><p>“No, it means to rule” She said.</p><p>“How would you know that?”</p><p>“I oversaw many baptisms, people want to know what name they’re giving their child” </p><p>“Delightful, I just adore children, such a tiny little balls of flavor...so sweet” </p><p>Rolling her eyes, Agatha sat on the floor and began setting up the chess board.</p><p>“Shall we have another match?”</p><p>“Alright” Dracula smiled sitting opposite her.</p><p>All in all, it wasn’t such a bad way to pass the time.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Dear reader,</p><p>Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Only a few more left until our sea voyage comes to an explosive end.</p><p>Please do leave a kudos and comment any predictions for the future chapters or anything else that crosses your mind!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Discarded Distraction</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>With their budding ‘friendship’, what could possibly go wrong for our favorite nun and vampire?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Varna to Whitby<br/>
Off the South of Spain<br/>
1897</em>
</p><p>Up and Down.<br/>
Rises and Falls.<br/>
Much like the ship as it rolled over the waves.</p><p>Agatha breathed like she had made it an art form, her chest rising and falling with the sedative qualities of a lullaby. A rhythmic and hypnotic movement that had him transfixed for some time.</p><p>The early morning was so quiet that even without his enhanced hearing, he could hear every breath in tandem with the every beat of her heart.<br/>
A smile crept onto his face and he simply let it sit there. </p><p>Dracula leaned over her, the delicate remnants of her perfume and a scent that was entirely her own assaulting his senses. Not enough to stir him to hunger, he was far too full for that.</p><p>Her face was softened by sleep, the lines in her skin smoothed giving her a more youthful look. Not that she was terribly old, a newborn infant compared to him, really.</p><p>Her lips drew his eye, those lips which were always curled around some amusing retort or insult. Would they taste as sharp as her wit? As acidic as her humour? Or as sweet as her blood?</p><p>Her hazel eyes staring up at him in confused curiosity pull him back to a sitting position. </p><p>“Good morning, Vlad” Agatha said groggily with sleepy half smile, wiping the drowsiness from her eyes as she sat up.</p><p>Him staring down at her when she woke had become such a common occurrence that she didn’t even question it. </p><p>“Good morning, Agatha,” He said setting her regular breakfast in bed on her lap.</p><p>“Did you dream of pleasant things? Me perhaps?”</p><p>“Despite what your ego might think, I don’t always think of you. And no, my mind was pleasantly blank” </p><p>She hadn’t dreamt since last he fed on her some weeks ago. Her nights had been blissfully absent of any dreams or nightmares. </p><p>A frantic knocking on the door disturbed her meal.<br/>
The Count opened the door to a disheveled Doctor Sharma. His shirt was rumpled and poorly buttoned and his eyes frantic, like a caught rabbit.</p><p>“Good morn-“ </p><p>“Is Yamini here?” He asked bursting in past Dracula, gazing searchingly around the small cabin.</p><p>“No, why?” Agatha asked, setting her breakfast platter aside.</p><p>She already had a terrible feeling of where this was going, yet she hoped that she was mistaken. </p><p>“She was not in her bed when I awoke, I thought she might have come to you Countess. She likes you a lot and had some questions about the book you leant her. I don’t know where she has gone. I told her not to wander but she has such a curious mind” The Doctor replied. </p><p>“Have you searched the ship? I’m sure she’s just curled up somewhere reading” She said reassuringly, putting on a brave face for the worried father.</p><p>Her eyes could not even meet the vampire.<br/>
For she knew that no matter how many times they searched the ship, just like the other three passengers, dear Yamini would never be found. And it was all his fault. </p><p>“No, we’re going to once the crew is roused”</p><p>“Well then surely she will be found before lunchtime” She said with false hope.</p><p>“I’ll help, just let me finish up with breakfast” Dracula said, patting the man on the back in solidarity.</p><p>“Yes, see you on deck, Count Dracula. Praise Allah that she is found” Doctor Sharma said before departing to continue his search for his missing daughter.</p><p>The second the door was shut, Agatha rounded on the Count, her face filled with red hot anger. </p><p>“How could you?” She shouted, her voice tinged with disappointment.</p><p>“Because I’m nothing but a beast, remember? Or had you forgotten?” He shrugged. </p><p>How foolish and delusional she had been to think that he could change because his need for blood stemmed partly from addiction. She had honestly believed he might at least spare the girl because of her disability. And because she grown to care about the child.<br/>
She had forgotten what he had done unprovoked to her sisters. Had he killed Yamini just to spite her just like he had them?</p><p>“But she meant nothing to you! She was a deaf-mute! What need did you have to kill her?” She asked, her face so close to his, his coldness doing nothing for her flushed skin.</p><p>“She got in my way! Nosey little brat couldn’t take a hint. I told her to shoo when she saw me with Dorabella but she went and did it again. She had to go before she told someone” He argued.</p><p>“You killed her just for getting in your way?How could you! You monster! She couldn’t have told anyone, she was a mute” She exclaimed shoving his shoulders, which did nothing to move him.</p><p>“And who else did you murder?” </p><p>“Lord Ruthven”</p><p>Silly fop had it coming the way he eyed her companion. Even then, that didn’t give him excuse to kill him.</p><p>“You’ll have to kill me too because I won’t let this go on any longer! I’m going to stop you” She promised. </p><p>“You can try, Agatha, many have, but you won’t succeed and when you fail, I’ll welcome you back with open arms”</p><p>“But for now I’m needed for the search party” He grinned maliciously before leaving.</p><p>Agatha lunged at him as he slipped out, the door closing after him to the sound of the key in lock. She banged her fists in vain on door. How dare he lock her up? </p><p>His charms had distracted her. She had fallen prey to his flattery. How could she ignore the only man who didn’t ignore her?<br/>
Every smile, every reply, everything had been a trick to lead her into a false sense of security. While they conversed about life, he murdered innocent people before her very clouded eyes. </p><p>The fog was gone now. She now saw him for what he truly was, what she had forgotten in her curiosity, nothing but a monster. A vile beast who killed because he wanted to. Simple bloodlust. </p><p>Dressing while her mind whirled with ways to defeat him, she looked at herself in the mirror, renewed determination set in her features. She would avenge Yamini and her sisters, and every other poor soul who had fallen prey to the vampire. </p><p>The door locked, her only means of escape was the small window to the back of the room. </p><p>The anticipated swirling pain did not come. Her mind was finally free of his control. A good thing since she would certainly be needing it. </p><p>She turned the brass handle, pulling it open and gazing down at the waves crashing against the side of the boat.<br/>
If she could just make it around the side of the ship to main deck, she would be able to, hopefully, hoist herself up over the railings to where the search would be having their morning meeting.</p><p>The rickety chair serving as a step up, Agatha hoisted herself partly out the window.<br/>
A narrow decorative wooden ledge made an acceptable walkway. Placing her boot onto it, she reached up for the upper ledge and pulled herself out. </p><p>Her skirt snagged on the window and the rickety chair tumbled.</p><p>“Jesus” She cried nearly losing her balance before managing to get her second foot on the window ledge and yank her skirt free with a tear.</p><p>Steadying herself, she moved her foot onto the ledge, now completely out of the window.</p><p>Without looking down at the crashing sea below her, she began to shuffle her way across the ledge, gripping onto the upper protrusion for dear life. </p><p>“That’s it, Agatha, nearly there” She muttered to herself. </p><p>Her fingers ached from gripping onto the small ledge in the morning cold, but she was almost there.<br/>
The railings of the deck in the view, she shuffled along precariously before pulling her self over them. </p><p>Landing on the deck in a heap, alerting the gathered men, she righted herself.</p><p>“Countess Dracula? What on earth are doing?” Captain Sokolov asked.</p><p>“I am not Countess Dracula!” She snapped, able to finally correct them.</p><p>“I am Sister Agatha Van Helsing of Saint Mary’s Convent Buda-Pesth. And that man,” She said firmly pointing at the Count, </p><p>“Is your killer. He is a vampire.” She exclaimed.</p><p>The passengers looked at her doubtfully. Her torn dress, messy hair didn’t exactly lead them to believe her words, while the Count remained the calm picture of refinement.</p><p>“Now, Agatha, darling, you’re ill. You’re just confused, feverish even. Vampires don’t exist, they’re nothing but fairy tales”<br/>
Dracula said calmly raising his hands in innocence.</p><p>Agatha glared at him, rolling her eyes. She wished they were nothing but silly tales, it would save her a lot of hassle.</p><p>“Gentlemen, I do apologize but my wife is terrible sick. She has bouts of hysteria such as this quite often” He said looking to the suspicious passengers, slowly moving towards her.</p><p>Hysteria. The female illness, the modern illness. She shook her head in disbelief, surely no one could believe that excuse. </p><p>“I have experience in these matters. These creatures do exist” Doctor sharma said. </p><p>“The Doctor is right. You know what a vampire is, don’t you? A foul, stinking, slouching monstrosity.” She said in disgust.</p><p>Dracula grinned opening his mouth in mock surprise.</p><p>“They can disguise themselves fairly well as ordinary people but arose to a bestial frenzy by the mere sight and scent of human blood.” Agatha said but the passengers still seemed unconvinced.</p><p>Why would they believe a word she said? Mina hadn’t either at the beginning. It all seemed terribly ridiculous. Supernatural creatures, most people would never believe of such things.</p><p>“Don’t worry, I will deal with her” Dracula reassured, rounding on her.</p><p>“Shall we end this?” He whispered.</p><p>It was about time. She was sick of playing his games.</p><p>“Cat got your tongue?” He grinned when she remained silent, not a witty remark in sight.</p><p>Blood sprayed in droplets over his smug face causing him to growl and glare at her in angry disbelief.</p><p>“Biting my lip” She grinned as he backed away growling, losing his control.</p><p>“Look at him. Look at him. Really look at him. He is pale like a corpse, clawed and stinking of grave dirt. Driven to frenzy by blood” She exclaimed.</p><p>The passengers looked at the vampire in a new light, seeing finally the monster behind the mask.</p><p>“A cross will save you!” She shouted.</p><p>“You killed my daughter! You monster!” Doctor Sharma yelled making a cross with his fingers, trembling with rage.</p><p>“And Tom!” Adisa shouted brandishing a small gun. </p><p>The group advanced towards him with all manner or objects in the shape of the cross.</p><p>The vampire growled annoyed, shying away from the sign of God in pain.</p><p>“This is a pity. I was so enjoying this voyage...and the people” Dracula sighed looking at Agatha fondly before he shoved her over the railings.</p><p>Tumbling backwards, she cried out, plummeting towards the sea.</p><p>The passengers distracted, Dracula took the opportunity to disappear into the ship.</p><p>The frigid water knocked the breath out of her. Gasping, her heavy skirt dragged her beneath the waves. She paddled desperately to stay afloat but the fabric of her clothes soaked up water like a sponge.</p><p>That was it. Count Dracula had finally killed her, weeks past her due date. Hopefully her sacrifice would not be in vain. With the information she had provided, the passengers may yet be able to stop the Count or at least protect themselves till they reached England. Doctor Sharma seemed to know what he was about. </p><p>She closed her eyes, letting the sea take her willingly. Perhaps God would finally accept her home so she may rejoin her sisters.</p><p>Firm arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her up towards the light and out of the water.</p><p>“Pull us up!” The Captain shouted to the crew.</p><p>Olgaren tugged the rope up with the help of the passengers, pulling Yuri and Agatha on to the deck.</p><p>“Sit up, Agatha. Sit up and breathe.” Doctor Sharma said holding her up right.</p><p>She sputtered and coughed up the sea water. The salt burned her throat, her eyes and nose running as she gasped for breath. </p><p>“Take big breaths.” Captain Sokolov said patting her back.</p><p>“Dracula, where did he go?” She asked looking around as she coughed. </p><p>“Relax now. Breathe deeply.”</p><p>“Where is he? Where’s Dracula? Where did he go? Was no one watching?” She said looking at the gathered men in annoyance. </p><p>“We were helping you.” Doctor Sharma replied.</p><p>“Well, in future, get your priorities right.” She said righting herself, trying to ring some of the water out her clothes.</p><p>“There’s a vampire on board this ship,”</p><p>“Captain Sokolov” She said turning to the man.</p><p>“Yes”</p><p>“You are relieved of command” She said leaving no choice. </p><p>If they wanted to survive the remaining weeks to England, they would need to follow her every command. No one knew the vampire better than her. </p><p> </p><p>——————</p><p> </p><p>After a quick change of attire, Agatha was now lead by Yuri Sokolov to the only cabin that was not occupied. The one she hoped the Count had been using.</p><p>“Here it is” He said opening the door to cabin number four. </p><p>It was the same as hers and empty of any sign of the Count.</p><p>“Doesn’t look like it’s been used” He said looking around.</p><p>“Although the curtains have been drawn” She said pulling them open. It was sign enough that he had been using the cabin.</p><p>No need to offer him any comfortable hiding spots, let him enjoy the sun a little.</p><p>“Dracula needs to sleep in a coffin or box containing his own native soil.” She said.</p><p>“No idea why. It doesn’t make a lot of sense.” She added at his confused look. </p><p>Nothing made sense about the man, or beast. He was a walking conundrum. No wonder he made her body sing with curiosity.</p><p>“Did you say soil?”</p><p>“Soil, yes. Somewhere hidden away on this ship, there must be a box of Transylvanian soil.”</p><p>Where on earth he could have hidden a man sized box of soil on a ship that size was beyond her. </p><p>“Have seen any such things?” She asked.</p><p>“We have fifty boxes of soil in the hold” The Captain said embarrassedly. </p><p>Scowling, Agatha sighed. How stupid were they to not suspect anything? Surely fifty boxes of dirt must have rose some suspicion. </p><p>“Well then, we must get rid of them all” She said. </p><p> </p><p>——————</p><p> </p><p>Agatha oversaw the last three members of the crew get rid of the boxes.<br/>
The good Doctor and Adisa had gone to collect themselves in their cabins. She hoped that they attempted nothing foolhardy without her supervision.</p><p>Quite a task given that most the crew were dead or gone. Not that she blamed the deserters, they had ever reason to leave the cursed ship.</p><p>Yet she had to remain, to save them all from the Count. Herself included.<br/>
She had been silly to believe that he might keep her alive, as he had done so far. Clearly he was just saving her, making her last like some treat for later. </p><p>The night before had deluded her even further. She had truly believed that him revealing his name, which had been a secret, actually meant something. It had all meant nothing. She wasn’t anything special, just a means to an end. Discarded the minute she had served her purpose.</p><p>“Is that the last of them?” Captain Sokolov asked.</p><p>“There’s one more” She said.</p><p>“You heard her, one more.” He said, gesturing Olgaren and Piotr onwards. </p><p>“No, wait.” She said stopping them in their tracks.</p><p>“Better still, we leave him one box. Only one resting place. Right now, he’s hiding in the shadows, but daylight weakens him. He will need to rest eventually. If there’s only one box...” </p><p>“We can trap him.” The Captain said.</p><p>“Perhaps we can reduce his options, at least.” She nodded. </p><p>It was a decent enough plan. One box to lure him in. And then she would rid the world of his scourge.</p><p>“Now we must increase ours. Captain I assume somewhere on board this ship, you have a Bible. I find myself temporarily embarrassed.” </p><p>“In my cabin.” He said with a chuckle.</p><p>“Please fetch it.” She said. </p><p>“And Olgaren, set about carving us some stakes”</p><p>“Yes Ma’am” He said heading off to search for the necessary tools.</p><p> </p><p>——————</p><p> </p><p>Tearing pages from the Bible, what heresy, maybe the almighty wouldn’t mind since they were doing it to save themselves from the Devil.<br/>
She handed them to Yuri who nailed them to deck.</p><p>They had nearly created a perfect circle of protection.</p><p>“I still don’t see the point.” Adisa said.</p><p>“The holy word of our Lord. It worked in the convent with sacramental bread so I suppose we must have faith.” She said continuing with her circle.</p><p>“Is this all we have left? Superstition. Fairy tale.”</p><p>“You saw the effect the cross had on him.” Olgaren pointed out as he sharpened the points of a stake. </p><p>“It’s no less of a superstition because a madman believes it too.”</p><p>“We have a killer on board, a human man. However delusional. For all we know, she’s just as crazy, she’s his wife” Adisa rambled on.</p><p>“Convent?” Captain Sokolov said.</p><p>“I mentioned I was a nun?”</p><p>“Oh, perfect, she’s a nun. We need a general, we need strategy, not nuns.” Adisa exclaimed. </p><p>“You don’t seen like a nun.” The Captain said. </p><p>“It has been said.” Agatha shrugged.</p><p>Every person she met seemed in disbelief of her calling. But it had been a very long time ago. And with her convent destroyed, she wasn’t even sure if she still qualified as a nun. The ring on her finger showed not. </p><p>Piotr rushed up onto the helm, panting and whimpering.</p><p>“What’s wrong boy? What’s happened?” Olgaren asked.</p><p>Piotr clasped his hands over his mouth, shaking in fear.</p><p>“Doctor...” He managed to stutter out before collapsing onto the deck.</p><p>It was enough to understand. The poor doctor had fallen victime to the beast’s bloodlust. At least he was now at peace with his daughter in Heaven, or whatever paradise he believed in.
</p><p>His death only served to renew her desire to kill the vampire so he couldn’t ruin anymore families. 
</p><p>Now they waited. Their patience would lead to victory as long as it managed to withstand any lingering paranoia.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Dear reader,</p><p>We are fast approaching the end of this voyage, only a few more chapters to go.</p><p>As always, a comment and kudos are greatly appreciated.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. A Blaze of Glory</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The remaining passengers of the Demeter await the vampire for a final face off.<br/>Some are more prepared than others.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Varna to Whitby<br/>
Off the South of Spain<br/>
1897</em>
</p><p>Shadows and darkness.<br/>
The time when the creatures of the night reigned supreme and humans hid in their houses, praying to the light.

</p><p>Nightfall had only served to exacerbate the fear which had taken hold of the remaining passengers.</p><p>They sat huddled around the mast of the ship, a circle of torn pages their only protection.</p><p>Piotr had yet to speak any more words since he had come to. He sat huddled in a ball with his knees to his chest. </p><p>Adisa cried softly, staring up the sky, the fog hiding any stars.</p><p>“Tears for your master? I thought you despised him.” Olgaren said as he sharpened more stakes.</p><p>“He wasn’t my master.” He replied wiping his eyes, his small pistol held tightly against his chest.</p><p>Agatha sat leaning her head against the mast, trying to calm her nerves and rest somewhat after her brush with Death. How naive she had been to actual believe he cared, or at least found her entertaining enough to keep her alive.</p><p>She did not fear for her own safety, but that of the passengers who she now deemed friends in arms. </p><p>“Captain Sokolov, please stop frowning”</p><p>“How did you know I was frowning?” He asked from his position at the wheel.</p><p>“It’s audible.” She replied, a little humour wouldn’t hurt to lighten the dreary mood.</p><p>That was something Dracula always managed. To make light of any situation, however morbid it may be. She always had to catch herself from laughing at his dreadful puns.</p><p>“This circle, that’s supposed to protect us.” The Captain said.</p><p>“I believe it will.” She said.</p><p>“You said it worked at the convent.”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“And yet, you’re here. So what happened?” The Captain asked turning to look at her. </p><p>“Dracula gained entry by disguising himself in the skin of...” Agatha said sitting up when she realized her mistake.</p><p>“Of another.” She said looking suspiciously at the hunched over cabin boy.</p><p>“Sister Agatha?”</p><p>“Piotr.” She said but the boy didn’t move.</p><p>“Wake up, boy.” Olgaren ordered to which he slowly raised his head.</p><p>“If you please, tell me again what happened below decks, I think you came across Dracula feeding off the Doctor, correct?” She said.</p><p>Not that he had told them exactly what he saw. But it was bound to be a gruesome sight for a young boy. </p><p>“Yes.” He said.</p><p>“And Dracula saw you?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“And then he let you go?” She asked incredulously. </p><p>If he had killed deaf-dumb Yamini for seeing him, why hadn’t he killed Piotr who was able to perfectly communicate?</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“May one ask why?”</p><p>“I don’t know.”</p><p>“No, Piotr, I don’t know either.” She said exchanging a knowing glance with the Captain.</p><p>“Go on, Piotr, you just have to explain.” Olgaren said encouragingly.</p><p>“I told you. He was drinking Doctor Sharma’s blood. He was busy.” The boy replied shaking.</p><p>“Busy? Yes.” Agatha said rolling her eyes. </p><p>That was one way to put it. And exactly how the Count might.</p><p>“I ran. I don’t think he cared about me.” He scoffed. </p><p>“Just let me go.” </p><p>He turned to look at their worried faces.</p><p>“Olgaren, what’s going on?” He asked, his eyes darting between them like a panicked rabbit.</p><p>“Victor?”</p><p>“Just try to explain, boy.” Olgaren replied reaching for his stake.</p><p>“I have explained. That’s all there is.” Piotr snapped.</p><p>“Piotr.” Captain Sokolov said calmly. </p><p>“We just need to be sure that you haven’t been contaminated.” He said picking up a stake as he moved towards the boy.</p><p>“Occupied.” Agatha corrected.</p><p>“I saw Dracula climb from the belly of a wolf once. We need to be sure.” She said as they all stood around the sitting boy.</p><p>“How do we do that?”</p><p>“Piotr, you entered the circle before it was complete, yes?” She asked.</p><p>“I think so. I didn’t really notice.” He said with a shrug.</p><p>“Now the circle is closed. A vampire would be unable to cross the line of it in any circumstances.” She said looking down at the flimsy circle.</p><p>“Piotr, step outside the circle.” </p><p>“But...” He stammered. </p><p>“You said it wasn’t safe.”</p><p>“No, no, you can’t do this to the boy.” Olgaren said.</p><p>“Only for a moment. She reassured.</p><p>“Piotr...Step outside the circle. That’s an order” The Captain said.</p><p>“Come on, just cross the line for a moment, in and out.” Agatha said.</p><p>The whimpering boy scrambled to his feet.</p><p>“Do it. Now.” Sokolov said, leaving no room for argument.</p><p>Piotr stepped towards the paper barrier, stepping on shaky foot outside.</p><p>“Well done, boy. Get back inside.” Olgaren said.</p><p>“No, both feet” Agatha said firmly, pointing to his other foot.</p><p>Safer to be thorough rather than risk what happened in the convent occurring again.</p><p>Piotr nodded with a sniffle and lifted his other foot as they watched on in anticipation.</p><p>His foot barely touched the deck before a clawed hand reached out for him with a hiss.</p><p>They screamed in frightened surprise, Agatha just managing to pull Piotr back in time.</p><p>Her fear and paranoia had nearly gotten the better of her and cost the boy his life.</p><p>“That was hilarious.” Dracula chuckled. </p><p>“God protect us.” Olgaren muttered, his stake raised.</p><p>“This again?” The vampire said gesturing to the circle.</p><p>“Tedious book.” He grumbled. </p><p>Pity whoever had written was long gone, he would have liked to put their head on a pike.</p><p>“What do you want?” Adisa asked bravely.</p><p>“Ah, what I always want. Something to eat, a bit of company.”</p><p>The same for him. Stopping herself from sniggering, Agatha stepped towards him, stopping just short of the line.</p><p>“Your boxes have been destroyed. You have no refuge, no place of solace.” She said.</p><p>“I noticed that one of my boxes is still in the hold.” </p><p>“Oh, you’re welcome to sleep in it anytime you like. We won’t wake you.” She smiled holding a stake up between them. </p><p>“I see. You left it there as a lure.” He sighed.</p><p>“Just when I thought we were starting to get along. I’m heartbroken, Agatha.” He said sadly clutching his chest.</p><p>“I’ll spare you the pain.” </p><p>They would never get along. He was nothing but a monster. He had tried to kill her and had killed everyone she ever cared about, as if he couldn’t bare to have her attention anywhere else but on him. </p><p>“Too kind.”</p><p>“Well. I wonder which of you it’s going to be.” He said addressing the group, stalking around the circle.</p><p>They all followed his every movement, their stakes raised and ready.</p><p>“Which of us what?” She asked.</p><p>“One of you is going to break. The night is young.”</p><p>“You expect us to give ourselves up to you?” The Captain asked incredulously.</p><p>Knowing him, he probably did. Arrogant as he was. He had believed the same of her sisters. Despite what he might think, he wasn’t that irresistible. She was proof of that.</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“But why?” </p><p>“What’s the alternative?” Dracula chuckled.</p><p>“It’s only a matter of time.”</p><p>“Come on.” He beckoned.</p><p>“Don’t you at least want a good death? Take your chances, die fighting, die in battle like every living thing is supposed to?” He asked. </p><p>What would he know about that? He wasn’t alive. He knew nothing of death despite how much he may inflict it.<br/>
No one wanted to die. And no one was going to if she succeeded.</p><p>“Surely it’s better than this dreary stalemate.” He said walking around them.</p><p>They were all so dreadfully boring, even Agatha. They stood there with their weapons yet did nothing.</p><p>“Not a stalemate, Count Dracula.” Adisa said catching the vampire’s attention.</p><p>“We have an advantage over you, or at least I do.” He said stepping towards the line, his eyes filled with rage.</p><p>“Alone on this boat, it seems...” He glanced at the other passengers.</p><p>“I’m not a lunatic.” Adisa spat.</p><p>The Count smirked, leaning in towards him to inhale deeply.</p><p>“Ah... Now... now you interest me.” He said moving to sit on the stairs away from the circle.</p><p>That was the last thing the man should want, yet Adisa didn’t seem to even realize the danger he was. Foolish man. Agatha watched on in fascination and horror, like a car crash, she knew something terrible was about to take place yet she couldn’t look away or stop it.</p><p>“Pages from an old book nailed to the deck, and you can’t walk past them?” Adisa asked incredulously.</p><p>“Your conflict, your disbelief, your skepticism is a strong flavour.” Dracula said rubbing his hands together in giddy anticipation while his voice remained calm.</p><p>“Intoxicating.” He smirked. </p><p>The weakest link in the chain. There always was one and he was a master at finding it. All it took was a little push.</p><p>“Don’t let him confuse you, Adisa.” Agatha said, hoping to reel him back from the edge.</p><p>“I am not confused. This man killed Tom.” He said turning them.</p><p>The tears clouding his judgement proved to her what she had known all along. </p><p>“Lord Ruthven. He... He took the love of my life, and I will not play his games.” He said resolutely glaring at the Count. </p><p>“Where is he? What have you done with him?”</p><p>Dracula smirked pointed down towards the ocean.</p><p>“Fish bait. Like the rest of them. One learns to keep a tidy slaughterhouse.” He said.</p><p>“Now, Adisa, tell me. What do you see before you?”</p><p>“A man.” </p><p>“Aw, only that?” The Count pouted in disappointment.</p><p>“Less than that. A murderer.” He spat.</p><p>“If you’re so confident and if you’re so angry, step outside the circle.” The vampire beckoned.</p><p>“Even if you don’t believe what is self-evident, you know he is dangerous.” Agatha reasoned. </p><p>“Step outside the circle and dance with me.”  Dracula taunted.</p><p>“Don’t throw your life away to prove a point!” She exclaimed. </p><p>Adisa held his gun up,</p><p>“That won’t do any good.” She said.</p><p>“They call it a life preserver. Well I have faith in it. I have faith in steel and powder.” He said firmly.</p><p>“Why should I trust you? He’s your husband, how do I know you’re not trying to save him?” Adisa said incredulously.</p><p>“He’s not my husband.” Agatha snapped.</p><p>“Fine, try and shoot him, but from inside the circle. We must stay strong and united inside the circle!” She exclaimed. </p><p>The man was clearly set on using his uselessness weapon. Boys and their toys.</p><p>“Yes, stay inside the circle. Do as you’re told. Do as they’ve always told you, as you always do, ‘cause that’s what you’re good at, ‘cause you’re a servant. Hmm.” Dracula taunted.</p><p>“However stupid your masters were, however beautiful, you’re destined to remain in the shadows. A guilty secret.” He smirked, knowing all about those secret encounters.</p><p>It was the last straw. Adisa stepped outside the circle.</p><p>“Don’t! No!” Piotr cried reaching for him but it was too late.</p><p>“I knew you could do it. Your own man at end.” Dracula said.</p><p>“Come back. Come back inside.” Agatha insisted, in hopes that Adisa would see reason, or at least truly listen to what the beast was saying. It was his end.</p><p>But the man was past all point of reasoning, advancing on the Count.</p><p>“This is an execution.” He said raised his gun.</p><p>“This is for Tom.” He said holding back his tears before shooting the smirking vampire point blank in the chest.</p><p>And again when he didn’t budge. And again and again until he ran out of bullets, coming to the realization that the nun was right too late.</p><p>“Ow.” Dracula said with a smirk before lunging at Adisa with inhuman speed.</p><p>He tore his throat out as the man still screamed.</p><p>Agatha shielded a terrified Piotr’s eyes. </p><p>Tilting his head, Dracula spat out the chunk of flesh spraying blood everywhere.</p><p>The boy bravely charged at the beast with a stake. Growling, Dracula threw him off the helm where he connected with a barrel which began leaking paraffin onto the deck.</p><p>The Captain then tried his luck only to be tossed down the stairs like a rag doll.</p><p>The giant Olgaren knocked the distracted Count over onto the deck below before leaping down to kick him back down as he tried to stand.</p><p>“Keep him down. Keep him down on the deck, Olgaren.” Agatha said watching the chaos below her.</p><p>“Knife! Knife!” Olgaren shouted.</p><p>Piotr passed him one and he stabbed it into the Count’s wrist to pin him to the deck while the boy did the same with his cape on the other side. </p><p>The vampire screamed in pain, hissing and trying to wiggle his way free. Things certainly weren’t going to plan.</p><p>“Count Dracula.” Agatha called.</p><p>He looked up at her, illuminated from behind by the sconces, she looked like an angel. A terrifyingly vengeful angel.</p><p>“Go to hell.” She said a smile dropping a lantern, which ignited the deck and the Count in a blaze of glory.</p><p>Dracula screamed in agony, flailing as he burned. The flames danced over him stopping him from dissipating into bats. Managing to rip himself free, he ran howling across the deck and into the water below with an awful sizzle and splash.</p><p>Watching in horrified fascination as he ran around like a giant candle, she couldn’t help but feel uneasy, an ache settling in her chest. He may be a beast, but his screams were terribly human, shrill in their pain that pierced right through to her soul. </p><p>Rushing down the stairs of the helm, the smell of smoke and cooking meat thick in the air, Agatha ran to see if he was still alive. </p><p>Panting, she and the others could see nothing but dark water beneath them.</p><p>Exchanging a nod with the Captain, the three remaining members of the Demeter went to see about putting out the fire and repairs.</p><p>Leaning on the railing, her hands clasped, she gazed down at the water expecting his grinning head to pop up. But it didn’t.<br/>
Had she killed the only proper vampire? Burnt him to a crisp then lost him to the waves? Without any possibility of further study? </p><p>Of course it had to be done. She couldn’t let him continue killing people. But perhaps she should have found a better manner of keeping him. What cage would be strong enough to hold him? And somehow she didn’t see herself killing and preserving him like some dreadful taxidermic specimen.<br/>
Agatha Van Helsing, the discoverer and capturer of a male Homo Vampire, displayed proudly in the British Natural History Museum. </p><p>No. That idea was ridiculous and made her stomach feel like it was full of bricks.<br/>
It was for the best that he was dead and lost to the bottomless ocean.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Dear reader,</p><p>Only one chapter to go!</p><p>I felt like this needed to be a separate chapter as it was far too lengthy combined with the previous one. I personally get terribly distracted when chapters are too long. But tell me what you think!</p><p>As always a kudos and comment are more than welcome.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>With Dracula seemingly dead and gone, Agatha takes drastic measures to make sure no trace of him ever reaches England.<br/>She may have jumped the gun a little.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Varna to Whitby<br/>
Off the North-East Coast of England<br/>
1897</em>
</p><p>Earth.<br/>
It provides for us then it consumes us.<br/>
The flesh lost to it while the soul ascends.</p><p>Dark soil ran through her fingers, its musty scent filling her senses. No matter how many times she looked at it, he didn’t appear.<br/>
Day after day, it remained the same. No secret fortunes to be read in it as if it were tea leaves, dark and damp, weaving strings of fate. </p><p>Grave dirt and yet there was no corpse, how could she even truly know he was dead? For all she knew he had made a home with Poseidon. Taken his trident and set about ruling the seven seas.</p><p>He couldn’t be gone. It was far too easy. But he had still not made his grand reappearance. Perhaps he really had left her. Her greatest foe, discovery and obsession. So many years wasted in the study of him and his kind, only to destroy him like the Dodo.</p><p>“How long are you going to keep checking?” Captain Sokolov said entering the hold.</p><p>“Till I’m sure.” She said looking up for the crate of dirt. </p><p>“It’s been a week.”</p><p>“But if he survived, it would take time for him to heal those wounds.” She said letting the dirt trickle through her fingers. </p><p>Those terrible wounds. His piercing screams still echoed through her skull, and those of her sisters, like lambs to slaughter. </p><p>“But according to you, he could only do so lying in a bed of his own earth. That is the only one on board. Have faith.” Sokolov said encouragingly.</p><p>“I struggle with faith.” She smiled slightly looking at the rugged man. </p><p>The Captain scoffed, heading for the stairs.</p><p>“We’re a few hours from Whitby. Do you want to join us on deck?”</p><p>“You still have one lifeboat left, yes?” She asked standing.</p><p>“Yes, why?”</p><p>“Because this ship must never reach England.”</p><p>“What are you talking about?”</p><p>“Your cargo, I’ve been going through it. We have here everything we need.”</p><p>“For a doll’s tea party?” He asked reaching out for a ghastly red haired porcelain doll. </p><p>“No,” She laughed.</p><p>“Saltpeter, sulfur, charcoal.”</p><p>“For gunpowder?” He said, his face falling.</p><p>“Well, there’s at least enough to blow a decent-sized hole in the hull, don’t you think? That might be quite a good spot.” She said pointing to the far left corner of the hull.</p><p>“That would take her down, all right. But why?”</p><p>“No trace of the vampire’s foul contagion can be allowed to reach the New World. Trust me on this. We must sink the Demeter.” She said stepping over to him. </p><p>“When will you accept that you’ve won?”</p><p>“When I’m dead,” She shrugged.</p><p>“This ship is cursed, I cannot let in arrive in England. It carries all that remains of Dracula. It must be destroyed, all of it, and it is my duty to do so.” </p><p>“But he’s dead.” The Captain argued.</p><p>It seemed so but they couldn’t be certain. He could be hiding somewhere onboard waiting for the opportunity to attack. She couldn’t risk him reaching England under any circumstances.</p><p>“Consider this a plague ship. All precautions must be taken even if no infected remain,”</p><p>“Explain what’s happening to Olgaren and Piotr, and get off this ship,”</p><p>“You can leave the arrangement of the gunpowder to me,”</p><p>“Now, go now. I don’t have all day, quite literally, as it turns out.”</p><p>“Sister Agatha?” The Captain began sadly.</p><p>“No more.” She said shaking her head with slight smile. </p><p>It was her fault that Dracula had managed to kill most of the passengers and her sisters. She couldn’t let it happen again. </p><p>The Captain pulled her tightly into a firm hug. The sister was brave, he owed his life and that of his remaining crew to her.</p><p>“I’m a nun.” She said in surprise. </p><p>A little human contact went far, the hug warming her heart and giving her courage for what was to come.</p><p>“You mentioned.” He nodded, not ready to let her go. </p><p>When eventually they parted with an understanding nod, Sokolov going to deck while she went about setting up the gunpowder.<br/>
Mixing the ingredients in a barrel then turning it over and creating a short line of ignition. </p><p>The sound of rigging and splashing water was all the reassurance she needed. More lives saved, though not enough to make up for all those she had lost through her own transgressions.</p><p>Agatha signed deeply, clasping her hands in front of her and looking up to the ceiling. </p><p>“I suppose there’s time for one last attempt at conversation,”</p><p>Not that she had ever received an answer. Not when her sisters had screamed or Mina had cried in fear.<br/>
No, it had always been up to her to save the day. </p><p>“One hopes that there’s time for negotiation on suicide as a mortal sin.” She chuckled slightly.</p><p>As if that was all that was damning her. If anything her sacrifice would be her only redeeming act.<br/>
Nonetheless, she closed her eyes and tried to pray. </p><p>Creaking wood and what sounds like footsteps on deck ruin her attempt at concentration.</p><p>Her brows furrow, listening out carefully.<br/>
Gasping at the definite sound of walking, Agatha jumped to her feet and darted out of the hold.</p><p>It had to be the Count, who else could be? Everyone was gone.</p><p>“Hello? Is there someone there?” She called out into the corridor where the cabins were. </p><p>The lack of response was disheartening. Once again she was alone, not even an irritating vampire to keep her company.</p><p>Entering his empty cabin, she looked out the porthole to see the lifeboat floating away across the dark sea.<br/>
Well at least she was certain that the three sailors were safe, having grown a tad fond of the characterful trio.</p><p>Agatha sat on the bunk, staring out at the lifeboat as it grew smaller in the distance.<br/>
As to be expected, she was alone in her last moments. No loving family and friends surrounding her bed as she took her last breaths. At least she will go out on her own terms, the way she had always lived. </p><p>Footsteps growing louder as they approach draw her gaze to the door.<br/>
Steeling her face, she expected to the see the grinning face of the Count, smug in his success, with some witty barb, a soft smile pulled at her lips. </p><p>But it was only the Captain who walked in with a light knock on the open door.</p><p>She exhaled deeply staring at him. What was he doing? He was meant to be gone. It was meant to be her sacrifice. </p><p>“Going down with the ship. I learned a longtime ago that’s the Captain’s job.” He said.</p><p>No, it was her job. She was supposed to defeat Dracula, end this once and for all. And yet once again a man came to ruin her last act of bravery. </p><p>“One for the road?” He asked holding up a bottle of rum. </p><p>“One for the road.” She scoffed, she might as well enjoy a last drink. She had done so little of it in her life.</p><p>“On deck, then.” He nodded leaving her alone. </p><p>Stretching out with a slight smile, maybe company wasn’t so bad. She looked down at her hand on the mattress. </p><p>“A bed.” She said in realization. </p><p>How could she have been so stupid?</p><p>“A bed of his own earth.” She said fervently pulling back the bed cover and the mattress. </p><p>Dirt. The bed frame was full of dirt.</p><p>“He’s alive.” She exclaimed in horrified joy. </p><p>He wasn’t gone. She hadn’t killed him. Sure that meant that there was a risk of him reaching England, but maybe she could find a way of better trapping him this time. That was of course if he didn’t kill her for nearly killing him. Though he had done the same, so they were even now. </p><p>“Sokolov, he’s alive!” She cried running out of the room to find him.</p><p>His bloodied body and smashed bottle on the floor halted her in her tracks. </p><p>“Sokolov isn’t.” Dracula said leaning on a doorway.</p><p>Served the man right for his pathetic attempts at flirting with his nun. He should have made it last a little longer.</p><p>“I fear I may have bolted him. Starving.” He said walking towards her.</p><p>She looked a lot plainer than he had left her, simple cream blouse, navy skirt and hair loose. Nothing he couldn’t fix.</p><p>“I believe the plan was for a drink on deck. I hope I’m a reasonable substitute, I definitely brought much better drink.” He smiled shaking a bottle of wine at her before heading for deck.</p><p>Agatha watched him as he left. Not a mark on him. The same stupidly smug grin plastered on his face. Even his hair was perfectly coiffed. </p><p>Kneeling down next to the Captain, another person she had failed, she gently held his cheek. He should have followed her order. </p><p>Raspy breathing, she gasped, he was still alive, or at least sort of. </p><p>“Keep him talking.” He murmured breathlessly to which she nodded.</p><p>Stealing her spotlight, it was meant to be her who blew the ship but the end result would still be the same.<br/>
And that wouldn’t be hard, no one loved the sound of their own voice more than that man.</p><p> </p><p>——————</p><p> </p><p>Hitching up her long skirt, she climbed up the stairs to the helm.</p><p>Lanterns gave a warm glow against the dark sky, a stark contrast to the ethereal paleness of the vampire. The remnants of her paper ramparts lay scattered sadly around him.</p><p>Dracula exhaled deeply leaning on the wheel. </p><p>A Barrel stood by him with an uncorked wine bottle and glass.</p><p>“This takes me back. About three centuries, in fact,” He sighed turning to her with a smile.</p><p>“We must do it again sometime.”</p><p>“I think probably not.” She said half smiled, stepping into the broken circle. </p><p>Like a circle of toadstools, she entered knowing she might never escape the clutches of the fae, or another supernatural being in her case. </p><p>“I quite agree,” He laughed mirthfully, moving to pour her a glass of wine. </p><p>“Sorry I won’t be partaking but you know..I don’t drink wine.” He grinned holding out the glass to her.</p><p>Reluctantly she accepted the glass of dark red liquid, drinking as she needed every bit of courage she could get. It was decent enough, probably some great vintage knowing him, though a tad rough and metallic, lingering unpleasantly on her tongue.</p><p>“How did you do it?” She asked.</p><p>“Uh... I swam under the boat and climbed up the other side. As escapes go, basic but effective.”</p><p>“I’d really thought we’d won.” </p><p>She knew it had been too good to be true. For god’s sake, he was a vampire, he didn’t breath, he couldn’t drown. </p><p>“If it’s any comfort, Agatha, you came closer than anyone.” He said gazing at her almost proudly.</p><p>“Oh look,” He said pointing out at the lights in the distance, the beacon that was Whitby.</p><p>“The pawn almost made it to the other side of the board. But I’m afraid there’ll be no second queen.” He chuckled maliciously.</p><p>“Ptior and Olgaren got away.” She said looking out at the small fishing town. </p><p>They were so close, he was nearly there, she hoped Sokolov hurried up. </p><p>That was something. Two lives saved were better than none.</p><p>“Well you can’t eat them all,”</p><p>“I got Doctor Sharma though. I love Science. Science is the future, Agatha.” </p><p>“And yet you still fear the cross.” She pointed out.</p><p>For a man of Science, strange but not unheard of. Many of them still remained devoutly religious. </p><p>“Of course I do. Everyone does, even you, that’s the problem,”</p><p>“It’s not a symbol of virtue and kindness. It’s a mark of horror and oppression,”</p><p>“Your idiot Church has terrorized the peasant population for centuries, and I have been imbibing the blood of those same peasants for so long, I have absorbed their fear of the cross,”</p><p>That couldn’t be denied. The Church had not always been perfect. Burning the curious for witchcraft, or anyone who disagreed with their dogma. </p><p>“My God. I can’t wait to eat some atheists.”</p><p>“No.” She said with a shake of her head. </p><p>“Sorry?”</p><p>“No, I mean, that’s all very nice and logical, but that’s not the reason.” </p><p>“What makes you so sure?”</p><p>“Because I think, Count Dracula, I’m coming to know you,” She smiled at how clearly uneasy she made him. </p><p>That terrible nonsense again. She didn’t know him. No matter how many times she claimed to. He looked at her, a mere mortal, how could she even begin to comprehend all that he was.</p><p>“I know when you’re lying.”</p><p>Dracula scoffed, what did she know? He wasn’t lying. That was the truth, over maybe a version of it.</p><p>“I’m lying? What about you, Agatha? A nun fascinated with the occult, lying to herself about her faith. You’re just as fearful of the cross as I am, if not more so. Oppressed, you hide your true self under the dressings of a nun, don’t you want to be free?” He said.</p><p>So much potential lost behind the trappings of morality. She could be so much more if she only dared to.</p><p>“Ha. If you really knew me, you would use my first name for starters.”</p><p>“Very well then, Vlad, it’s not me you’re lying to.” She replied with a saccharine sweet grin. </p><p>What did he know?<br/>
Becoming a nun had been her own choice. Allowed her the freedom to study anything her heart desired, saving her from the life of a miserable housewife.</p><p>He laughed dismissively, there was no lie to be had.</p><p>“Come now, Agatha, let us not argue upon our grand arrival to the New World.” Dracula said offering her his hand. </p><p>She raised her eyebrows at him.</p><p>“Dance with me.” </p><p>“But there’s no music.”</p><p>“It doesn’t matter.” </p><p>“I don’t know how to dance.”</p><p>“It’s not hard, I’ll teach you.” </p><p>Running out of excuses, she sighed, and took his hand, anything to distract him after all. </p><p>The Count smiled pulling her close, placing her hand on his shoulder before placing his own firmly on her back.</p><p>“Now just follow my lead.” He said as he began a simple waltz.</p><p>Agatha tried to follow his steps, looking down at his feet yet still managed to step on his toes.</p><p>“Relax, Agatha, don’t think about your feet, just let yourself glide” </p><p>She sighed, looking up at the sky.</p><p>The inky sky above was filled by thousands of stars that swirled as he spun her.<br/>
All paled in comparison to the full moon which cast such a lovely glow across the ocean and ship. </p><p>The Count lead her expertly across the deck, they seemed to all but float in effortlessly grace. </p><p>His cold hand held hers gently while his other was splayed against her back.<br/>
He smelt lightly of sandalwood and sea-salt and just a hint of something coppery. It wasn’t wholly unpleasant.</p><p>“O Agatha, you’re the finest wine I have ever sampled...You’re so full of wit, learning and even wickedness...You’ll be my finest bride yet.” He said smiling softly.</p><p>“Over my dead body, Count” She retorted with slight smile.</p><p>“That is part of the process.” He chuckled fondly. </p><p>Not that he would let it hurt. It would be a quick and painless for a infinity of pleasure. </p><p>Creaking from the hold ruined the moment.<br/>
Of course the Captain had to gone and ruin everything. </p><p>“What was that?” He asked starting to pull away from her only to be stopped by her lips pressed firmly against his.</p><p>They were soft and warm, and all together clumsy and inexperienced. Yet Dracula froze, arms awkwardly at his side as she cupped his face in her rough hands. It had been awhile since anyone had kissed him.</p><p>A last resort that certainly did the trick. Agatha kissed him, or rather pushed her lips against his in an awkward attempt at kissing, she had no real previous experience.</p><p>His lips were cold and unmoving, like kissing a corpse, which wasn’t that far from the truth.</p><p>The fiery explosion from the hold tears them apart, violently rocking the ship.<br/>
Ears ringing, he shoved her back against the railing knocking the breath from her lungs.</p><p>“Agatha you sneaky minx!” He growled holding her firmly by throat and jaw. </p><p>She stared him down as he snarled at her.</p><p>His dark eyes searched her face in anger, disappointment and betrayal. Betrayed by a kiss. He had so wanted to believe things would finally go to plan. </p><p>“Go ahead. I win. The last thing your eyes will ever see is the contempt in mine.” She spat.</p><p>She had been ready to die that night, by her own hand. What difference does it make if it is by his instead?</p><p>“Agatha..” He whispered, gripping her cheeks leaning in a fraction as if to kiss her.</p><p>Pushing her aside, he ran for safety like a coward.</p><p>And Agatha laughed, at how preposterous the whole situation was. At how mesmerizing it had been to dance with the Devil in the pale moonlight.</p><p>She laughed herself to tears then sobs as she climbed the railings, raising her arms outwards as if daring the Lord to smite her down. </p><p>What did God think of her now? </p><p>Staring up at the Heavens, she leapt as if to fly off on feathered wings, free falling into the watery abyss like an angel cast down. </p><p>The frigid water steals her breath once again. </p><p>The cold is crushing upon her chest.<br/>
Gasping and flailing, the shock of the icy water clearing her head, she managed to calm herself enough to float. </p><p>Dracula was alive and she doubted a little thing like a sinking ship would be enough to kill him. She could not let him make to England before him. She had to stop him.</p><p>Agatha started swimming towards the coast, a difficult feat in her feminine fabric restrictions. But she had to push on, had to reach the shore and defeat the Count.</p><p>Her fingertips are frozen and her legs leaden.<br/>
She struggled to keep her head above the water, her long skirt soaking up the water and dragging her down like a brick.<br/>
To test for witchcraft, they once tied women to stones, tossing them in rivers; If they drowned, they were innocent, survive and they burned. What would it be for her?</p><p>Her eyes were stinging, her lungs were burning, her arms and legs were going numb, water kept going in her mouth.</p><p>The burning ship lit her way yet the glowing lights of the town remained so far out of reach. Not matter how hard she paddled, she couldn’t seem to get any closer. </p><p>Her eyes slid closed and her motions slowed. </p><p>The black abyss of the sea swallowed her whole. Oblivious she dreamt only of cold lips against her own in a perfectly imperfect embrace.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Dear reader,</p><p>And thus our sea voyage comes to an end.<br/>This story is now a little over one month old! I’m honestly surprised I’ve lasted this long.<br/>I hope you enjoyed this chapter.<br/>As always please do leave a comment and kudos!<br/>I absolutely love to read all your feedback!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Washed Up</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Arriving at her destination with no clue how she got there, Agatha must pull herself back together if she is to defeat Dracula.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
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  <em>Whitby<br/>
1897</em>
</p><p>Air.<br/>
We never realize how much we need it till we are deprived of it.<br/>
Gasping and gaping like a fish out of water as our throat tightens and black spots dance before our eyes, we wonder why we ever took it for granted.<br/>
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</p><p>A cold and scratchy surface met her face as she regained conscious. Her throat burned as briny water spouted for her lips like a fountain.</p><p>
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</p><p>Agatha breathed as if no air would ever be enough, a drowning victim suddenly brought up from the depths. She was on her knees, hands on the sand, her long hair almost touching the ground. </p><p>
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</p><p>Scrunching up handfuls of sand, she watched as it moved through her fingers. She was on a beach. </p><p>
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</p><p>The Demeter sinking and her swimming. The rest is icy blackness. But she was on shore so she must have made it and too deliriously exhausted hadn’t formed any memory of it, like some drunkard on a night of folly.</p><p>
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</p><p>Dracula.<br/>
Where was he? Had he been killed? Unlikely? Was he already terrorizing the English? Probably.<br/>
Well she certainly couldn’t let that continue or happen. </p><p>
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</p><p>Either way, she dragged herself to her feet after a few unsuccessful face fulls of sand, and staggered up the beach and onto the cobbled streets.</p><p>
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</p><p>The sun had not yet breached the horizon,  only giving off a cold glow for the birds that sang their morning joy in the distance. The imposing ruins of an abbey, like the remains of ancient monster on the hill marked her location.</p><p>
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</p><p>Her long water logged skirt dragged her down, as she walked through the sleepy streets of Whitby. </p><p>
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</p><p>The few early risers, people setting up their stores, a baker and a fisherman, gave her a wide berth.<br/>
A strange ashen haggard woman in soaken shreds of blue, like some siren witch come to steal away their children. </p><p>
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</p><p>The sign of the cross and muttered prayers followed her as she stumbled through the town. </p><p>
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</p><p>Not quite sure of her destination, she trekked onwards hoping somehow that Mina, her only English friend would show her the way.</p><p>
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</p><p>All her attempts at asking for her help were ignored or openly rebuffed. Maybe her accent was incomprehensible. </p><p>
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</p><p>“Excuse me, Miss?” A heavy set man said.</p><p>
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</p><p>Agatha looked at the man all dressed in white with rosy cheeks and a little cap. </p><p>
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</p><p>“Good morning, I might be able to help, who exactly are you looking for? You see I’m the milkman here and know just about anyone” He continued.</p><p>
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</p><p>“Hello, I’m looking for Miss Wilhelmina Murray. It’s of the upmost urgency that I find her,”</p><p>
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</p><p>Upon the milkman’s puzzled look, she thought of who else he might know. Who was Mina’s friend? The rather bold one?</p><p>
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</p><p>“Or Miss Lucy Westenra.”</p><p>
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</p><p>“Westenra? Yes, I know them. They live in the big house on the hill. You just keep following this main road here, and eventually you’ll see a sign on your right for Hillingham Estate. You can’t miss it.” He said pointing out his directions. </p><p>
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</p><p>“Hillingham Estate. Right. Thank you.” Agatha said already heading off the way he had pointed.</p><p>
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</p><p>“You’re welcome. Have a good day, Miss.” The milkman said continuing on with his morning delivery.</p><p>
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</p><p>Up the hill she went, dragging herself up as if in a dream. Her legs numb, no longer a part of her, now merely machinery that kept on moving.<br/>
The sun crested the hill, lighting the frosted bare tree branches that reached down over the cobbled path like skeleton fingers.<br/>
Her salted clothing dried in burning irritation against her skin in the sunlight, so she stuck to the shaded path, the warmth of the sun of no comfort. </p><p>
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</p><p>When she reached the large door of the estate, she knocked once then collapsed through it as it was opened. </p><p>
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</p><p>———————</p><p>
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</p><p>Thundering drums resonated through her echoed by the stamp of a thousand booted feet.</p><p>
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</p><p>Bright scarlet flags emblazoned with a golden crest, of a dragon and crowns, waved proudly in the sky.</p><p>
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</p><p>Surrounded by people in strange attire, the women in gowns of hues of green and blue with long flowing sleeves, and the men in equally colorful fitted trousers and ornately decorated tunics.  </p><p>
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</p><p>She had no clue where she was. In a castle, she surmised for on all sides were high walls of sandstone, the blue sky with not a cloud above. Other than that, she didn’t know, though no longer in Europe, for people did not dress as those around her did.</p><p>
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</p><p>The people waved and sang merry melodies in a tongue she didn’t understand, as the men, knights, began entering through the gates. Their armor was muddied and worn but there was joy in the air. </p><p>
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</p><p>A large black stallion lead the group, upon it, a knight in shining armor, a dragon curled on his breastplate. He hopped down off his stead with grace, pulling off his helmet.</p><p>
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</p><p>The Count. A few less lines, tighter bronzed skin, but unmistakably him. The same smug grin plastered on his face though there was a liveliness about him. </p><p>
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</p><p>Was he feeding on her again? Making her dream. Had he managed to track her down already? </p><p>
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</p><p>The people were bowing and offering their regards, of course they were, he was a prince or sorts. He was venerated by all. </p><p>
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</p><p>Apart from her. She marched over to him, intending to give him a piece of her mind, sick of his games.</p><p>
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</p><p>His brows pulled in confusion at her, and for a moment she thought he did not recognize her, but she saw it, the spark in his eyes, of surprised wonderment.</p><p>
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</p><p>“Agatha?” He said, his voice echoing out as his image started to blur disappearing behind blinding white.</p><p>
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</p><p> </p><p>
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</p><p>———————</p><p>
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</p><p>The cold afternoon sun flooded her sight, as her eyes adjusted to the light, a golden figure sat like an angel next to her. </p><p>
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</p><p>Flaxen hair, porcelain skin far paler than it had been, or maybe it was her all black attire that made it seem so. </p><p>
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</p><p>“Thank god you’re awake, I nearly thought we’d lost you there. You were as cold as the dead.” Mina said. </p><p>
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</p><p>“Where am I?” Agatha asked sitting up slightly and wiping her eyes.</p><p>
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</p><p>“You’re in Lucy’s house, Hillingham Estate, you stumbled through the door way early this morning. Gave the maid quite a shock and that’s not easy to do, she’s quite the woman. Would you...”</p><p>
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</p><p>“Mina, he made it to England,” She said grimly.</p><p>
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</p><p>The young woman’s faced dropped at her words, any joy disappearing at the mere mention of that beast. </p><p>
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</p><p>“Dracula made it. I couldn’t stop him. I tried but I...”</p><p>
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</p><p>Once again, Agatha had failed her, them, all of England. She couldn’t protect them for Dracula. What could would her deal in covent be if Mina died anyways?</p><p>
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</p><p>“Oh Sister Agatha, it’s not your fault. But first let’s have some tea. Tea always makes things better.” Mina said reassuringly as she handed her a steaming cup of milky tea.</p><p>
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</p><p>Accepting the delicate china cup, its warmth sinking into her very bones, bringing her back to life. She took a sip and despite the warmth being most pleasant on her tongue, the flavour turned her stomach. </p><p>
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</p><p>“Would you like some breakfast? I’m sure you’re starved.” The girl said unveiling an array of breakfast items from a trolley by the bed.</p><p>
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</p><p>Agatha was indeed starving. A deep hunger having settled in the pit of her stomach yet the buttery richness and sweetness of the food made her want to retch.</p><p>
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</p><p>“Tea’s fine for now. Thank you.” She said settling on the comfort of cupping the cup in her hands.</p><p>
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</p><p>“Now tell me the whole story. How did you survive, if you don’t mind me asking.”</p><p>
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</p><p>“Not at all...” Agatha said.</p><p>
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</p><p>Recounting the tale wasn’t difficult, the journey still fresh in her mind. Certain parts were omitted, for what would dear Mina think if she knew the vampire had brought her breakfast in bed everyone morning or that he was the most interesting conversationalist she had ever met or that the sister had kissed him.</p><p>
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</p><p>No, it was best that she kept all of those more scandalous details to herself.</p><p>
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</p><p>Mina listened silently, not a word uttered. The sister had been ever so brave, risking her own life to save hers then having to put up with that monster for a month in tight quarters.</p><p>
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</p><p>“- The Demeter sank a few kilometers from shore, though I doubt that will hold the Count for long. We must therefore prepare to stop him, yes?” Agatha said as she finished her tale.</p><p>
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</p><p>“But how? You tried twice and have not succeeded? If fire, drowning and guns won’t work, how on God’s earth are we to defeat him?”</p><p>
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</p><p>“With God, of course, dear girl, all is possible through God.” </p><p>
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</p><p>Not that the Almighty had ever helped her before. No, all had been left to her and she hadn’t done a very good job but at least she had done something which was more than she could say for God.</p><p>
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</p><p>Her answer did seem to reassure the girl who nodded and set about getting a bath prepared for her, so it was good enough a reply for now. Hopefully she would have some time to figure out a plan before Dracula returned.</p><p>
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</p><p>“Mary has prepared you a bath and I have a dress you can use,” Mina said lifting up a pale blue high necked confection.</p><p>
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</p><p>“It should fit you since we’re both slim.” </p><p>
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</p><p>“Thank you, Mina, it will only be for a short while, I will sort myself out and be out of your hair soon.”</p><p>
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</p><p>How? All her possessions had been lost to the sea, not that she wanted to keep any of the Count’s gifts, but at least she would have had her own things. </p><p>
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</p><p>“Nonsense. You saved my life, it’s the least I can do. I’ll leave you to it, the bathroom is just down the hallway, call for Mary if you need any help. Meet me in the West Parlor when you’re done.” Mina said heading out of the large bedroom.</p><p>
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</p><p>The bedroom was light and airy, the walls papered a pale green patterned with swirling foliage matching the forest green brocade curtains and throw on the bed and the draperie which hung down around her.<br/>
A four poster bed of walnut, the sheets were of the finest cotton and the mattress far more comfortable than anything she had ever experienced. It was like on a cloud covered with fluffy moss.<br/>
A fire place at the far wall kept the winter chill out while the two large bay windows allowed the afternoon light in.</p><p>
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</p><p>Someone, probably the maid, had changed her from her salt ruined clothing into a simple white chemise. </p><p>
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</p><p>Her legs seemed to hold her as she stood and made her way out of the bedroom and down the carpeted hallway to the bathroom.</p><p>
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</p><p>In stunning white marble and gold with carefully painted blue tiles, the bathroom was large and sumptuous. </p><p>
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</p><p>The claw footed bath radiated delicate rose, the bubbles enveloping her as she sat down in it. She had never had the luxury of running hot water, a simple bassin her means of washing in the convent.</p><p>
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</p><p>Sighing contently as the warmth fought back the chill that seemed to have settled within her. </p><p>
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</p><p>Putting to good use the array of soaps and brushes, she scrubbed the sea grime from her body and hair, attempting to save it from the damage the briny water had inflicted upon it.</p><p>
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</p><p>She made it to England and found Mina, had not lost herself to the waves but renewed her determination in its depths.<br/>
All that was left to do was defeat Dracula. But where to start? She didn’t even know if he had surfaced yet, though she was certain that once he did, he would reek havoc. Surely that couldn’t go unnoticed. </p><p>
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</p><p>And how would she even do so? Nothing seemed to work expect stakes, which required getting close though the Count would probably enjoy that.<br/>
Could she do it? Drive a pointed piece of wood straight through his dead heart? </p><p>
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</p><p>A stinging cut drew her attention. Scrubbing her shin, her nail must have caught the skin. She wiped the blood away, examining her nails. They had gotten rather long, admittedly looking after her nails hadn’t been her top priority. She would have to remember to ask Mina for some scissors. </p><p>
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</p><p>When she had finally finished bathing, the water having started to go cold, she got out, smelling faintly of roses and wrapped a fluffy white towel around herself and her hair in a turban.<br/>
In the sink, with the miracle that was hot running water, she washed her face. </p><p>
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</p><p>Wiping the steam from the mirror, the face that looked back her was not her own. Sure the face had the same hazel eyes, sharp nose and thin lips but it lacked the expected dark circles and chapped skin from the sea. Even a few premature wrinkles had disappeared.<br/>
How strange, maybe the life of the rich really did work wonders for one’s complexion. </p><p>
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</p><p>In the bedroom, she dried and dressed. The dress had a delicate lace trim at the neck and cuffs and puffed sleeves but otherwise, thankfully, it was relatively plain. It was a little short at the hem and tight at her shoulders but would do.<br/>
She gathered her damp hair in a chignon and applied some cream to her face and a little perfume. Nothing quite as nicely scented as those on the Demeter.</p><p>
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</p><p>Made up as well as able, she exited the bedroom and went in search of Mina.<br/>
She headed in what she assumed was West, down the corridor, probably to get lost in the grand maze of a house.</p><p>
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</p><p>Agatha could deal with bloodthirsty supernatural beings, but nobility was an entirely different ball game.<br/>
Remembering what the Count had shown her, steeling herself, she knocked on the ornate door of what was presumably the West Parlor.</p><p>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Dear Reader,</p><p>Agatha survived and is still determined to kill the Count. I wonder what he’s doing?</p><p>Anyways, as always leave a kudos and comment telling what your thoughts are on this chapter.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Tea and Fishes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Agatha meets the illustrious Miss Westenra.<br/>Dracula meets his buzzing servant.<br/>But they don’t leave the each other’s heads.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
<em>Whitby<br/>
1897<br/>
</em>

</p><p>Afternoon tea.<br/>
The most quintessential of English customs, where society ladies discussed all matters of gossip around small cakes and tea. </p><p>Agatha had no experience in such matters, she was totally unprepared to handle the expectations of polite society. Not that she was rude or immoral, just that she wasn’t familiar with all the little cues and double meanings of words that the English were so fond of. Subtly had never been her forte.</p><p>“Sister Agatha, come in, this is Miss Lucy Westenra.” Mina greeted as the butler opened the parlor doors.</p><p>In keeping with the style of the guest bedroom, the parlor was light and airy, yet decadent with all the stylish trimmings.</p><p>Hunter green walls adorned with many paintings of landscapes and, portraits of, who she assumed, the Westenra family. Their eyes seemed to glare down at her as she entered the room, condescending gazes wondering why a fallen nun was sulling their fine home.</p><p>The parquet floor was covered by intricate persian rugs upon which sat all manner of seats. An brightly patterned ottoman, a forest green velvet and mahogany armchair with matching divan with foam green tasseled cushions. </p><p>By the later stood a young redheaded woman. She wore a fashionable pale pink dress, looking as though she had stepped right off a fashion plate. All curves and pale skin with just the right amount of blush. The epitome of femininity.</p><p>“A pleasure Miss Westenra.” Agatha said, curtsying awkwardly in the ill-fitted dress.</p><p>Meeting the aristocracy in a dress that wasn’t her own. Definitely one way to put her best foot forward, right into a pile of cow excrement that was.</p><p>“Please there’s no need, call me Lucy. Sister Agatha, isn’t it?” Lucy said a kind smile.</p><p>“Come sit, tell me of your journey. Is it true you fought a vampire?” She asked as she sat down on the divan. </p><p>“Agatha will do just fine.”</p><p>“Certainly, but Mina lead me to believe you are a nun.”</p><p>“I was. My convent was destroyed, I don’t believe the title suits anymore.”</p><p>After all she had done, could she really claim to be a woman of God?<br/>
Beckoning her, the Devil had won out, tricking her with his charming lies. To think that she had even begun to rationalize his crimes. That he could ever be more than a mere beast.<br/>
Her sisters had died because of her. Good, virtuous women. She didn’t deserve to hold the same title as them. </p><p>“Of course. Now tell me everything.” Lucy said insistently gesturing to the green armchair next to the divan. </p><p>The Lady was like a gossiping child. Excited as if what had transpired was nothing more than a juicy tale of sordid scandal.</p><p>“Yes, but I didn’t succeed and he will arrive in England soon if he hasn’t already.” Agatha said taking her assigned seat.</p><p>From it, she had a lovely view of the sprawling gardens outside. Perfectly trimmed box hedges and lawn, which had thawed yet remained bare in the afternoon light.</p><p>“Mina, you really were telling the truth.” Lucy gasped turning to Mina who sat next to her. </p><p>“I told you so. That beast took my poor Johnny from me.” She said, her voice cracking as her blue eyes brimmed with tears.</p><p>The poor girl had suffered far too much at the hands of the Count. At least her equally unfortunate fiancé’s demise was not Agatha’s fault, that was something off her consciousness.</p><p>“I thought he might’ve just run of with an exotic lady of the East.” Lucy said with a laugh. </p><p>“He would never! Johnny loved me.” Mina said tearfully. </p><p>“Of course he did, I didn’t mean it, I was only teasing.” Lucy said hugging her friend tightly.</p><p>“How did you reach England?” Agatha said.</p><p>“Oh I took a train from Buda-Pesth. I arrived about week before you.” Mina said.</p><p>“Poor thing was so distraught, the doctors thought she had gone mad, nearly sent her to Bedlam with all that talk of vampires and nuns. But I believed her and nursed her back to health.” Lucy said holding her dear friend tightly. </p><p>“It is the true, what happened to Mister Harker was a terrible thing, and I will do everything in my power to stop it from happening to anyone else.” Agatha said resolutely.</p><p>She couldn’t have anymore Death tainting her soul. Maybe after defeating Dracula and spending the rest of her life in devout prayer, she might yet reach the pearly gates. </p><p>“What is he like? The vampire..” Lucy said. </p><p>“Dracula? He’s...” She began yet how could she qualify such a person? </p><p>He was both bloodthirsty monster and charming man. Both disgusting her and thrilling her, he was too much for this world, which was why he had to be destroyed.</p><p>“A bloodthirsty monster, that’s what. I’ll stake himself myself for what he did to Johnny.” Mina said sitting up in righteous anger.</p><p>“That’s very brave of you, Mina, but he is also incredibly smart, like a fox, cunning he will outwit you and like a snake venomous yet charming, tempting you with your greatest desires. He will appear as the perfect gentleman, but underneath he is nothing but a mere beast.” Agatha said. </p><p>A mere beast? Lucy was not convinced. The Sister was perhaps too prudish but nonetheless there was a sparkle in her eyes as she spoke of this vampire, this Count Dracula. It promised more. So much more. He sounded like one of those exotic noblemen one read about in the novels, filled with all the mystery and wickedness of the East.</p><p>“You mustn’t fall prey to his charms for he will kill you or turn you into one like him. Promise me, both of you, that you will heed my words.” She said firmly, looking at both young women. </p><p>They were young, had their whole lives in front of them, it couldn’t be lost to the forces of darkness.</p><p>“We will, Sister, won’t we, Lucy?” Mina said reassuringly. </p><p>”Yes, you have our word.” Lucy nodded, though her voice did not hold the same steadfastness as her friend.</p><p>Afternoon fell to night rather quickly in the winter, with discussions of her journey and many other silly little pieces of gossip that went on, sustained on nibbles of scones, finger sandwiches and sips of sugary tea.</p><p>Surprisingly Agatha found herself enjoying the time spent with two ladies, who had welcomed as if she were their friend and not a nun nearly more than twice their age. It reminded her of her dear sisters, clucking away like hens as they performed their chores.</p><p>However there was a shadow on her soul which caused her to stare out at the gardens, expecting him to appear there in the darkness, staring in through the window as he had done at the convent gates. Not yet, but he would return. He always did. He had to. And she had to defeat him. Always would.</p><p> </p><p>——————</p><p> </p><p>Dancing dolls in the waves, their delicate clothing and hair floating as they glowed from behind like angels.</p><p>Though there had been one angel who had not made an appearance.</p><p>Through the gaps between the wood slates of the crate, Dracula had watched out for his dear nun, expecting to see her make her way to her final resting place just as the porcelain dolls did.<br/>
Even with his blood, she should still sink, taking some time to resurrect like him. If she ever did that was. It didn’t always work. But she had so much potential, if vampirism would take to anyone, it would be her. </p><p>Yet she never did. Perhaps she sank elsewhere or had been taken by the waves.<br/>
And with nothing to keep him interested, he had drifted off peacefully on his bed of dirt. </p><p> </p><p>——————</p><p> </p><p>Something woke him. Maybe a fish. Who knew?<br/>
How much time had passed? Too far below the water, he couldn’t make out if it was still night or if the forbidden sun had risen. </p><p>Hopefully, it hadn’t, for he was well rested and wanted to finally triumph.<br/>
Breaking through the flimsy crate took no effort, soon he was striding across the ocean floor, sweeping up the sand like a flowing cape behind him. </p><p>Walking out of the sea onto the dark beach, his hair dripping down his face, slicking it back, Dracula had finally reached England.</p><p>Sure not in the way he had wanted to, he had expected some glamour about his entrance into the New World, but what did it matter? He had made it. He won. Beat Agatha. </p><p>A figure stood calmly on the sand, watching him, seemingly unbothered by a man walking out from beneath the waves. </p><p>For a second he thought it was her. Come to gloat at beating him to the finish line. </p><p>“Master! You made it! Of course you did!” </p><p>Frank Renfield. His bug eating lawyer and servant. He had somewhat forgotten about the man, not surprisingly, the man was rather forgettable.</p><p>“When you didn’t arrive last night, I feared the worst, but I waited and here you are at last,” He said joyously.</p><p>The man was like an annoying fly, the way he wittered on. But he served a purpose, had sent him the delightful Johnathan Harker and arranged all his travel affairs.</p><p>“Where is your companion, Master?” </p><p>“Renfield, I’m sopping wet and hungry, I don’t think this is the time for pleasantries.” He said, snarling a tad.</p><p>There was no companion. Not anymore. She was probably lost beneath the waves.<br/>
O well, he would find someone new, someone better, that wouldn’t be difficult to do in the world of opportunities that was England. What did they say? There’s plenty of other fish in the sea?</p><p>“Yes. Forgive me, Master. Would you like my coat, my shirt? Or can I offer you a snack?” The man simpered offering his pallid neck.</p><p>“Just bring me to the carriage.” He snapped. He just wanted something to eat and a change of clothes. The last thing he wanted was the bland flavor of his servant to be his first meal in Britain.</p><p>“Yes Master.” Renfield said leading the Count to a large, black landau carriage with matching horses.</p><p>He helped his Master into the carriage, leaving him to rid with the driver outside.</p><p>The plush dark red velvet seats would be ruined by the sea water, no bother, they were easily replaced, he might even procure one of those automobiles Lord Ruthven had spoke of. His had been the newest model, shiny black, a rather intriguing contraption. Maybe he could find someone who knew more about such things, as he had told, Agatha, he loved science. </p><p>The carriage would take him to his new home in London, Carfax Abbey, to be renamed Carfax House shortly, an abbey was not the place for him. She would have thought it funny, him living in such a place.<br/>
Hopefully it would be refurnished to his tastes, all traces of that tedious religion gone.<br/>
</p><p>Fortunately he had had the foresight to send some crates of earth along with some of his belongings ahead of him. If he had learnt anything in his four hundred years, it was that one could never be too prepared.</p><p>Despite setbacks and a rather stubborn nun, Dracula had arrived in England. Agatha lost which gave him endless satisfaction. All her silly little tricks and her God didn’t save her or stop him. Sure his own little trick with the wine hadn’t worked either, but he would find another bride, after all she couldn’t be that hard to replace. </p><p>And with no one left to stop him, he would make the streets of England run red with blood. Sweet, sweet atheist blood because he was most certainly done with Christians, especially nuns. If he ever saw another nun, it would be far too soon.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Dear Reader,</p><p>Hope you enjoyed this. Don’t worry, our favorite pair will rejoin, a few things just have to set first.<br/>Also my Lucy and her home are based on the movie, Bram Stoker’s Dracula. </p><p>As per usual, a comment and kudos are greatly appreciated. They give me the motivation to keep on writing.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Determinedly Flawed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Dracula tries the local cuisine but starts to realize that it’s not up to par with that of the Dutch.</p><p>Agatha sets her sights on the capital, much to Lucy’s delight and Mina’s dread.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>London<br/>
1897 </em>
</p><p>The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned.</p><p>Home is where the heart is, isn’t that what they say? His heart was nothing more than a vestigial organ at this point, so no such trivial attachments chained him down.</p><p>His castle had been his home for over four hundred years, at least Carfax Abbey was nearly as old as him, likely dating back to medieval times, for he was not certain he could live in a modern building.<br/>
A house cannot be made habitable in a day and after all how few days go to make up a century.</p><p>Surrounded by a solid stone wall, there were many bare trees in the garden, which made it in places gloomy.<br/>
The house was very large, one part was of immensely thick grey stone, harkening back its original construction, with only a few windows high up and heavily barred with iron. Other parts had been added on in a straggling way making it a patchwork of the centuries.</p><p>Wrought iron gates swung open as the carriage entered the estate, Dracula was entirely pleased with his new home, with not a church in sight and plenty of means of escape through the surrounding streets, it was the perfect base of operations in spitting distance of the city center.</p><p>Boxes upon boxes of soil littered the black marble entrance, waiting patiently to be scattered throughout the city.<br/>
People would have to be employed to do so, for he no longer had his gypsy servants.</p><p>“I had electric lighting installed just as you asked, Master” Renfield said as he flicked a switch, illuminating the wall sconces.</p><p>Dracula marveled at the electric lights, like little contained suns. Yes, the modern conveniences had definitely been worth it.</p><p>He looked around while Renfield blabbered on about this and that.<br/>
Heavy black brocade curtains with the exposed stone walls, and general style of the place were exactly to his tastes. It was both modern and old.</p><p>“Is it to your liking, Master?”</p><p>“Yes, Renfield, you did very well, that will be all for now.”</p><p>“Yes, Master.” The man bowed and left to who knew where.</p><p>He may have had his uses, but he was terribly annoying, all the yammering had done nothing for the Count’s mood.</p><p>A sample of the local cuisine would certainly help with that, but first a change of clothes, the salt ruined ones for doing nothing for him.</p><p>Up the grand staircase, down a long carpeted corridor, passing by a bedroom of blue disappointment. What a waste to have had it prepared, the gifted suitcases lying forgotten at the bottom of the oaken sleigh bed.</p><p>No matter, he would find someone else to fill it.</p><p>At the end of the hallway lay the master bedroom.</p><p>A grand four poster bed of deep mahogany wood draped in rich bordeaux velvet dominated the room.<br/>
He would have to fill the mattress with dirt so he could enjoy to its fullest. Sleeping in a coffin was so last century.</p><p>A hearth to one side and a window to the other. Both somewhat useless with the miracle that was electric lighting.</p><p>His little bug eater had arranged all his clothing in the large armoire.<br/>
He chose simple clothes, for he was going out for dinner, there was no time for any other diversions. An attire of all black would do rightly, and o how nice it felt to have his long cape back, as he swept down the grand staircase like a spectre.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>——————</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Wiping his mouth with a handkerchief, Dracula wandered through the darkened cobbled streets.</p><p>Dinner had been quick and easy, putting up no fight at all, like stealing candy from a baby. A initial satisfactory rush trickling out quietly into a bland nothingness. It had sated his hungry but had still left him wanting.</p><p>There was no excitement, no true triumph at catching a weak little bunny rabbit. He wanted to take down a great beast, something that would look pretty on his mantle.<br/>
Hunting wasn’t as fun if the prey didn’t at least run.</p><p>A rolling sea fog had settled above the dark murky waters of the river below.</p><p>Dracula was perched on some sort of tower, taking in the city. Tower Bridge hummed in his mind, that must be what the English called it.<br/>
Was there anyone of any worth in the city below?<br/>
Those he had met so far had been rather flavorless.</p><p>He had killed her, why then did she not haunt him like the rest?<br/>
The lives in his blood who screamed and begged and told him of their secrets.<br/>
Why not her?<br/>
He had drank her blood, absorbed her into himself, yet not a murmur. Surely just to spite him.<br/>
She should be with him always. To entertain him with her witty barbs. To drive him mad, yet never to leave.</p><p>They could have ruled all the world together, his finest bride.</p><p>Surely someone so intelligent would want to be a vampire. Eternal life was very conducive to learning.</p><p>Instead she was dead, lost beneath the endless waves.</p><p>Gone. Dead. As all mortals were, an inevitability really. Someone new, someone better was bound to come along. Someone prettier, not a thrillingly stubborn Dutch nun.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>——————</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>With the rise of the sun, Dracula was filled with renewed determination that come the next sun, he would have found a new bride. For now though, he settled down in his dirt leaden bed for dreams of his perfect companion.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>——————</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The thrumming beat of drums entwined around the dancing partners, spinning them round in twirls of multicolored clothing like birds of paradise. It coursed through her bones making her heart beat with it.</p><p>At the head of the hall, on a grand throne, sat an all too familiar man, grinning and laughing far jollier than he ought to be.<br/>
He was like a mirrored version of himself.<br/>
All the warmth of Life and none of the iciness of Death. </p><p>It was him yet it wasn’t.</p><p>Dancers spun before her, her heart raced, she looked down on them, a heavy golden weight upon her head, how had she gotten up on a throne?</p><p>Dracula turned to stare perplexed at his companion.</p><p>Her long wavy chestnut hair, her sharp features and striking hazel eyes. Unmistakable even with the gown and crown.</p><p>“Agatha?” He smiled reaching out to touch her cheek only for her to disappear into thin air, leaving only the faintest whisper of warmth.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>—————</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Whitby<br/>
1897</em>
</p><p>Her heartbeat pounded in her ears as she woke with a start, panting, she gasped for breath.</p><p>Far too real yet not at the same time. Too bright, too loud, too happy. All wrong.<br/>
Was she cursed? Did he still pollute her mind?</p><p>Staggering in a mad dash to writing desk by the large bay windows, grabbing a pen, she scrawled out the only means of proving her regained freedom of mind.</p><p>What she wrote seemed correct to her, but she would need someone to check it, Mina.</p><p>Her fears somewhat assuaged, her heart calmed, it was only a nightmare, she shouldn’t get herself in such a state.</p><p>She dressed once again in the borrowed dress.</p><p>The sun was lowly risen, strange for she normally woke before it with the birdsongs, her body was probably still too exhausted from its ordeal to follow its normal rhythm.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>——————</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“-It is the event of the season, we absolutely cannot miss it.” Lucy said as she buttered her toast.</p><p>Brunch was a lavish affair taken in the dining room upon a large table covered in white lacy cloth and laid with all number of edible delights.</p><p>None of them sparked her fancy, but Agatha was happy enough to listen to her hostess ramble on about this or that. Currently she spoke of the Winter Gala.</p><p>“-And Arthur’s my good friend, it would be rude not to attend. We could stay at my house in London, there’s plenty of room for the three of us.”</p><p>“I’m not quite certain, I’m ready to go to any parties, it’s not the same without Johnny.” Mina said sadly.</p><p>“Oh Mina, you must come. It’s not like he ever went to parties anyways, and it will do you some good to have fun. You might even meet someone to take your mind off your dearly departed fiancé.”</p><p>“I could never! Johnny was my true love.” Mina exclaimed.</p><p>She would never love another soul the way she had loved him. Black mourning would be her only companion till the end of her days.</p><p>Lucy rolled her eyes, a woman could simply not afford to marry for love alone these days. And as if true love even existed. It was stuff of poets, pretty to read about, not so much so in the real world.</p><p>“What about you, Agatha? Surely you won’t deny a little party, after all that strict devotion...”</p><p>“That’s a very kind offer, but I think I might see about finding a convent here in England...”</p><p>A silver tray caught her eye. Crisply folded black and white. She grabbed it. Not food, something far more interesting, the newspaper.</p><p>“But you’re a catholic, you’ll find nothing of the sort here. You must...” Lucy continued to ramble on but her words were nothing but background noise as Agatha read the harsh black print.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> The Times</em>
</p><p>
  <em> February 7, 1897</em>
</p><p>
  <em> JACK THE RIPPER RETURNS?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Three bodies found savaged in the East End... </em>
</p><p>
  <em>...drained of blood....</em>
</p><p>
  <em>...man...</em>
</p><p>
  <em>...women...</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The words swirled before her eyes, the paper fluttering in her hands.<br/>
She had hoped, no, prayed that she had succeeded but she hadn’t, Dracula lived.<br/>
Three people had already lost their lives because of her failure, how many more were next?</p><p>“Agatha?” Mina said.</p><p>“He’s killed again. Dracula. He’s in London.”</p><p>“Oh.” The blonde mumbled numbly.</p><p>“I must go there to stop him.”</p><p>“So you’re coming to the Winter Gala with me, then?” Lucy said with a self-satisfied grin.</p><p>“Yes, we are going to London to defeat a murderous vampire, then of course, we will go to your party.” Agatha said rolling her eyes.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>——————</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Appetites ruined, by excitement, fear and steadfastness, Lucy rushed off to pack, while the remaining two sipped grimly on overly sweet tea.</p><p>“Read this for me.” Agatha said handing the page she had scribbled on to Mina.</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“Just do it.”</p><p>“Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee; blessed art thou amongst women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen.” Mina read looking at her confused, it was rather dark given their current predicament.</p><p>“Thank you.” Agatha sighed in relief.</p><p>Thank God she hadn’t written <em>Dracula is God</em> like poor Mister Harker. Her mind was still her own and it would be a cold day in Hell before she said such blasphemy.</p><p>“You feared you were like Johnny.”</p><p>“Yes, but I am not, my mind is my own.”</p><p>“But he bit you?”</p><p>“Yes, but it seems I have not been affected by it.”</p><p>“Why? Why did it spare you and not my dear Johnny?”</p><p>“I do not know, our Lord works in mysterious ways.”</p><p>“If there is a God, he has surely damned us to hell for the Devil already walks among us.” Mina said, he had not saved her blue eyed boy, who was good and honest, why would he save them?</p><p>“That is not true. Dracula is nothing more than a beast, despite what he may want you to believe. We will defeat him, I promise you.” Agatha said reassuringly.</p><p>Another false promise. Another sin to add to her ever growing list.<br/>
What was she to say? For if they lost hope or faith then they would have nothing.<br/>
And they would need everything if they even wanted a chance at vanquishing him.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Dear Reader,</p><p>Thank you for all the positive feedback on all the chapters!</p><p>Not long to go now before our favorite pair meet again.<br/>And you’ll be meeting some new-old characters along the way as well!</p><p>As always, kudos and comments are essential to keep my muse with me.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Preparations</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>With the Winter Gala fast approaching, everyone is in a rush to prepare, though Agatha would rather be shopping for holy weapons, and Dracula for brides.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>Whitby to London<br/>
1897 </em> </p><p>Travel.<br/>
It cannot exist without home.<br/>
If we never return to the place we started, we would just be wandering, lost. </p><p>And she had never had a home.<br/>
Not a true one. A roof above her head yet her heart had never been opened, dissected and accepted by those who shared it.</p><p>But could it be called wandering if she went onwards with a purpose? An eventual finish line? Yet it remained blurry, just out of sight for she wasn’t even quite sure what her end destination was to be? Killing Dracula? Somehow, despite her determination to do so, an ever present uneasiness disagreed.</p><p>However that ultimate act drove her onwards, inspired and reinforced by Mina.</p><p>They had departed shortly after lunch in a grand four-horse carriage fit for Queen Victoria herself, though it would have to content itself with a socialite, an assistant schoolmistress and a renounced nun.</p><p>“What do you think of this one?” Lucy asked animatedly showing a page from some magazine.</p><p>It was filled with all manner of vibrant images of women’s dress. All the latest fashion from London and Paris, she had informed them. </p><p>“It’s very nice.” Mina replied half heartedly, her gaze remaining fixedly upon the passing countryside.</p><p>A variation of such having been all she had spoken for the past hour or so of their journey as her friend continued to show her dress after dress.</p><p>The sky was of rolling clouds, a thousand greys from deep to pale.<br/>
An echo of the carriage, a grim air having settled between herself and Mina no matter how steadfastly Lucy tried to abate it with her sunny mood and bubbly yammering.</p><p>In the lazy afternoon half-light the evergreens were blackish-green silhouettes standing out against the rolling fields of alternating frozen brown earth or flaxen dormant grass.</p><p>The sun seemed to be hiding more often than not, maybe that was why the Count had chosen England of all places.<br/>
Agatha longed for summer. The feel of the sun’s warm rays fanning her face, scaring away the shadows from her soul. As if it was the very holy light of God.</p><p>Their journey would take many hours, each eating away at her as it surely meant another hour of terror for some poor souls who had the misfortune of crossing paths with him.</p><p>Like a pestilence, he poisoned all those who came into contact with him, destroying all that they held dear before finally they too succumbed.</p><p>His mark on her soul was deep and jagged like some awful wound that refused to heal.<br/>
Insidiously making its way through every millimeter of her being. Rotting her from the insideout.</p><p>Her only chance of salvation was his destruction and prayer. So far she had been unable to bring herself to perform the latter.<br/>
The scriptures only served to whip up the unlaid memory of her sisters. Who was she to speak the words they lived by when she had fallen prey to temptation? </p><p>“Would you like some?” Mina asked offering her some sandwiches. </p><p>A wicker basket of dinner sat next to her on the seat, pulled from one of the numerous compartments the carriage held.</p><p>Lucy was already tucking into the light meal, a sandwich in one hand and the magazine in the other.</p><p>“I’m fine thank you.” </p><p>“It’s here whenever you feel hungry.” Mina said like a mother to a child who refused to eat.</p><p>Maybe it was just excitement, but Agatha had done little more than nibble on the odd cake or slice of bread, and that was more out of politeness than anything else. Since her arrival, hunger had seemingly left her.<br/>
Well that wasn’t quite true, a cavernous pit had filled her stomach, but that, she chocked up to a desire for vengeance. </p><p>The cry of a murder of crows on a bare tree harkened the arrival of the night. </p><p>With dinner done, her companions attempted to achieve a comfortable position, an impossible feat in the confining restraints of the carriage. The gentle rock eventually lulling them off to sleep.</p><p>Gazing out at the darkening skies, she found a comfort in the night, like the blankets they had brought, it wrapped around her and hid her from peeking eyes.<br/>
Maybe it was that shadowy comfort which caused sleep to elude her.<br/>
Likely this lack of rest was the cause of the perpetual pounding in her head, her own heart beat echoed two fold.</p><p>Even without the moon, the countryside was distinguishable and she contented herself with looking out for the night creatures who ventured out under cover of darkness.<br/>
If lucky, she might even spot a coquettish red fox as it made its nightly journey.</p><p> </p><p>——————</p><p> </p><p><em>London<br/>
1897 </em> </p><p>Was there no one of worth in the blasted country?</p><p>For it seemed as if the entire place was filled with imbeciles. It was a wonder how they ever managed to conquer so much of the world when they couldn’t even string a sentence together properly.</p><p>Dropping the dead empty bowl to the filthy cobbled ground, Dracula made his way out of the dark alley.<br/>
The man had been as bland as the rest of them, his flashy clothing clearly compensating for his shortcomings.<br/>
An all around disappointing meal.</p><p>The thrill of murderous triumph had dimmed somewhat. It simply wasn’t any fun without someone to react. Sure he would prefer an appreciative bride but he would settle for her contempt at this point.</p><p>At least she had finally made herself known, or rather the remnants of her in his veins had. It had been quite the surprise to see her in his dreams. As his queen nonetheless. That was surely her doing, he most certainly did not want her as his equal. </p><p>For all the idle chatter of those he had encountered so far, it was just that. Chatter. Superficial and boring.<br/>
The only person who he could show such acts was Renfield and his simpering grew tiresome after a bit.</p><p>Licking his lips as he walked, like a beast she would say, the blood spoke of something.<br/>
Yes, its previous owner had been quite excited about it. What was it? A gathering? A party?<br/>
That was it, a winter gala held by some aristocrat, the highlight of the season, where everyone who was anyone in the city would be.</p><p>Finally, something of promise.<br/>
The watering hole he had been looking for.<br/>
Such event was bound to attract some interesting characters and it had been awhile since he had been to a party. He would have to get a new suit. The perfect attire for attracting a potential bride and dinner, not that the two were exclusive.</p><p>With a bounce in his step, he made his way back to where Renfield awaited him in the carriage. There would be much to do before the gala.</p><p> </p><p>—————</p><p> </p><p>“Come Mina, there’s still so much to do before the gala.” Lucy said insistently as she hurried along down the street.</p><p>They had arrived in London in the small hours of the morning to grand white plaster townhouse. </p><p>Despite their lack of proper sleep, Lucy had dragged them out to go dress shopping first thing, as, according to her, there was no such thing as too early when it came to a day out shopping.</p><p>Agatha and Mina followed after her with bleary eyes, through the hustle and bustle of the busy street.</p><p>The morning light struggled through the murky cloud, but even in its weakness it was enough to blind only serving to aggravate the pounding in her head.<br/>
The air was cold, holding the dampness that came before rain.</p><p>London was far larger and busier than Buda-Pesth. With imposing structures either side of them and a cacophony of sounds; horses, people, carriages.<br/>
It was overwhelming for someone so used to devout silence.</p><p>Their destination stood on the corner of an intersection of two avenues.</p><p>A grand building with an ornate baroque facade with many windows displaying all sorts of garments for all, well the wealthy mostly. The name written down the side in large brass lettering. </p><p>It reminded her more of a palace than a clothing store, Lucy had called it a department store. A monument in dedication to earthly vanity.</p><p>Instead of seeing a seamstress, the clothes were already made, ready to go with just a little alteration for fit.<br/>
Due to their time restrictions it was the easiest way to get three evening dresses.</p><p>In they went, nearly having to run after their guide as she strode off towards the women’s department, her fashion magazine in hand like a map.</p><p> </p><p>—————</p><p> </p><p>“What do you think of this one?” Lucy asked, elevated on a stand in front of the many mirrors.</p><p>She turned to them, sitting on some plush chairs, watching her bored. </p><p>They had been at this for hours, taking turns, though it was mostly Lucy, trying on dresses.</p><p>Like a monarch, Lucy commanded many a primly dressed sales assistant to search for whatever she desired to the tune of <em>Yes Miss Westenra, Right away Miss Westenra. </em> </p><p>Now on her tenth gown, Agatha was throughly bored, and she expected Mina was feeling somewhat similar.</p><p>“It’s very nice, I think it might be the one, it compliments your hair nicely.” Mina said.</p><p>“Yes I think so. But I have to get this just right, I mean I’m nearly twenty and I have yet to receive a single marriage proposal,” Lucy frowned turning this way and that as she admired the dress.</p><p>“What about you, Agatha? I haven’t seen you pick anything you like and you could certainly do with something nice to wear.”</p><p>Agatha still wore Mina’s borrowed dress, for she had nothing else. Not that she cared, she had contented herself with wearing an identical habit for most of her life. Though something that fit properly wouldn’t go amiss.<br/>
But how could she purchase anything? She had not penny to her name and everything in the store was terribly costly. </p><p>“I don’t think I’ll be attending the gala.”</p><p>“Why ever not? Oh, of course, you can’t afford a dress, can you? Well not a bother, I shall be your very own Fairy Godmother... Or rather Fairy Sister,” Lucy smiled happily.</p><p>“That’s not...” Agatha began.</p><p>She didn’t want to be a charity case, she had no need to go the frivolous event.</p><p>“Into the dressing room with you, Mina and I will go pick something out for you,” Lucy said moving off the stand.</p><p>The saleslady moved to which she raised her hand, </p><p>“I’ll be taking this dress.” She said.</p><p>Agatha had no choice to obey, scurrying off into the room to await her next orders.</p><p> </p><p>——————</p><p> </p><p>“Surely this one must be right.” Agatha said standing awkwardly in front of two women, trussed up in a blush lacy confection. </p><p>She felt like a doll for Lucy to dress up as she pleased.</p><p>“No, it’s not right. Don’t you agree, Mina?”</p><p>“Uh yes, I suppose so.” Mina said, simply glad that it wasn’t her standing there. She had already chosen her dress, an easier task when one only wore one color.</p><p>“Next one. I’m sure we’ll find something that works with your particular figure eventually.” Lucy reassured. </p><p>Agatha knew what she looked like.<br/>
All elbows and knees, none of the womanly curves which were fashionable. She didn’t really care, she just wanted to be done with this ordeal already, at this rate she would be content going in her undergarments.</p><p>She stepped down and went back into the dressing room to try on the last gown Lucy had picked out for her.</p><p>Slipping it on and doing it up with the help of the saleslady, she walked back out, deciding that even if they didn’t like it, it would be the one she would take.</p><p>“It’s gorgeous.” Mina said as she stepped out from the dressing room.</p><p>“Yes this is it. It’s perfect, even you look pretty in it. I’m a miracle worker, aren’t I?” Lucy exclaimed joyously to which Mina nodded.</p><p>Reflected in three mirrors, there was no room to hide, yet Agatha felt good, comfortable even, unlike she had done in the previous gowns.<br/>
It highlighted her features without overshadowing them and she had certainly never worn something so fine. Well maybe on the Demeter.<br/>
And under its full skirts, she would have plenty of room to hide a stake. </p><p>“From ugly duckling to gorgeous swan... or maybe just prettier duck,” Lucy said.</p><p>“I’ll go purchase it along with everything else.” She said heading off with the saleslady.</p><p>For of course she had also insisted on getting them all sorts of different clothing items, day wear, nightwear and all the underpinnings. At least she would finally have clothing that fit. </p><p>Once changed back into her original dress, Agatha sat next to Mina on the waiting chairs.</p><p>“Don’t mind her, half the time she doesn’t think before she speaks. The defect of the aristocracy is that they say what they please, and Lucy’s too naive to think about other people’s feelings, but she means well deep down.” Mina said. </p><p>Lucy had always said whatever she pleased, an only child, she never had to worry about offending any siblings, though then again she had none either. But she had always been there for her, especially ever since what happened to Johnny. </p><p>Though she did come across as a bit of an airhead, Agatha didn’t believe that Lucy was entirely naive or braindead. The mask of the fool was easy to hide behind.</p><p>“It’s alright, I’m quite used to such remarks. And I’m not one to hold a grudge.”</p><p>“Yes of course. Well the dress really did suit you very well, Lucy’s probably just jealous.” Mina smiled.</p><p>“I doubt it but unlike her, I’m not looking for any proposals. The daywear will serve me much more for when we work on finding Dracula.”</p><p>“Have you any ideas on how to? In a city this large, he’ll be near impossible to find.”</p><p>“You have Mister Harker’s possessions, yes?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“He must have kept notes of which properties Dracula bought, yes? We simply find them and then we’ll find the Count.”</p><p>“And then what? How can we defeat him?”</p><p>“If we can find where he sleeps, we could stake him or there’s always sunlight... It can be done.”</p><p>“Alright, all done, our purchases will be sent directly home,” Lucy said returning to them.</p><p>“And we should do the same. Still lots of planning to do before the gala.” She said as she headed arm and arm with Mina out of the store.</p><p>Indeed there was much to do. Stakes to carve, garlic to buy and holy water and crosses to find. Not to mention a lair to locate.<br/>
And one could never to be too prepared when facing a vampire.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Dear reader,</p><p>Happy Saint Patrick’s Day! </p><p>Ever so sorry for the late update, I was busy with the current state of world, but my schedule should resume now.</p><p>Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Another one to go before our favorite pair rejoin. Distance only make the heart grow fonder and all that...</p><p>Anyways, as always, a kudos and comment are greatly appreciated, especially in these trying times!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Three Suitors</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Three key players are introduced.<br/>Lucy continues to amuse.<br/>Mina mopes.<br/>And Agatha does a little self-discovery.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>London<br/>
1897 </em> </p><p>Courtship.<br/>
A number of stringent societal rules dictated it, such as, a woman could never be alone with a gentleman without a chaperone.<br/>
Following these rules carefully was a guarantee to a successful marriage.</p><p>Lucy cared for none of them. How ever could a lady get to know a gentleman without some alone time.<br/>
The rules were just as boring as the books they were written on, and sucked the very life out of fun.</p><p>“-and Doctor Seward is coming too. You remember him, don’t you, Mina?” She said as the butler opened the door.</p><p>Apparently they would be having some guests over much to Agatha’s surprise and Mina’s dismay.<br/>
Their hostess had taken the initiative to invite three of her very favorite gentleman for tea. </p><p>“Yes, of course but we’ve been shopping all day, don’t you think it’s best you left this little get together for another day?” Mina said.</p><p>“Well I can’t possibly cancel now, they’ll be arriving in an hour,” Lucy frowned, cancelling on such short a notice would be terribly rude.</p><p>“And Jack is coming. You’d make such a lovely pair.” She smiled teasingly.</p><p>“No, I will not ruin Johnny’s memory like that.” Mina snapped.</p><p>She was in mourning, and would remain so until the end of her days. She would never love another, something her friend seemed utterly unable to comprehend.</p><p>“Wouldn’t Johnathan have wanted you to be happy?” Lucy said softly.</p><p>At that point, Agatha had escaped upstairs with her boxes of new day wear in hand.<br/>
She had no interest in their trivial conversations, there was a vampire loose in London. </p><p>The townhouse was in the affluent Maida Vale neighborhood.<br/>
Though still incredible grand, it was far more manageable than the maze-like house in Whitby.</p><p>In a guest room of blues looking out om a wide quiet street lined with bare trees and lampposts, she arranged her packages before changing into something a little bit more fitting.</p><p>A high necked cream blouse with minimal detailing and a tailored jacket and skirt in navy, fashionably inspired by menswear.</p><p>Admiring herself in the mirror, it appeared as if her harrowing trip had finally caught up with her. For dark rimmed her eyes and ash had settled beneath her skin.<br/>
Well at least her clothes were her own and fit nicely. </p><p>What would he think?<br/>
Knowing him, he would likely approve as her new attire was the height of fashion, thanks to her saccharine sweet benefactor, and he was the paragon of such vanities.</p><p>Lucy and he would get on like a house on fire.</p><p>Scoffing at that, she went, once again down into the pits.</p><p> </p><p>—————</p><p> </p><p>The house was alive with the servants sorting out the preparations for tea, clearly Lucy hadn’t given them much, if any notice beforehand.<br/>
Agatha had no trouble slipping past them and into the parlor where she found Mina absconded in a corner with Lucy.</p><p>“Who’s that?” Mina asked as they sat in the corner of the parlor, by the window, awaiting the entrance of a guest.</p><p>“A Texan...Quincey P. Morris. He's so young and fresh, like a wild stallion between my legs.” Lucy giggled.</p><p>“You're positively indecent!”</p><p>“I just know what men desire. Watch.”</p><p>Lucy sauntered over to the tall man, her long pale green silk skirts swishing enticingly behind her.</p><p>Growing up in farmland, Agatha had seen many the shepherd, but never an American cow-boy.<br/>
He looked as if he had stepped right out of a Western book she had read in her youth.<br/>
A Texan there in London, such a strange thing to imagine. </p><p>A large brimmed forest green hat, tan coat and boots, he looked rather out of place in the large ornate parlor.</p><p>“Quincey, darling.”</p><p>“Miss Lucy. Why you're as fresh as the spring rain.” Quincey said in a strong accent. </p><p>“Oh, thank you,” Lucy said as she trailed her hand down his chest teasingly,</p><p>“Oh, Quincey, please let me touch it.  It's so big!” She exclaimed winking at Mina.</p><p>“She’s so terribly wicked, I can’t watch.” Mina whispered. </p><p>Agatha nodded, watching on, Lucy seemed to be amusing herself, just some harmless fun. And it was nothing worse that was said or done in the nunnery.<br/>
A lack of human contact certainly could drive even the most chaste woman mad.</p><p>Lucy pulled out a knife the length of her forearm, showing it off proudly to Mina before Quincey took it back for fear she might injure herself.</p><p>“Little girl. Oh, my dear sweet little girl.  I held your hand and you've kissed me...” He began, trying to wrangle Lucy to sit down next to him. </p><p>“Dr. Jack Seward.” The butler announced.</p><p>A lanky dark haired man dressed in a proper grey suit entered shortly after. </p><p>There was a certain air about him that reminded her of Mister Harker. A proper Englishman. </p><p>“Poor Jack Seward. He fell in love with her at first sight. A superb doctor, he has an immense lunatic asylum all under his own care, which should prepare him well for life with Lucy.” Mina said.</p><p>At that, Agatha couldn’t help but chuckle which she masked poorly with a cough.</p><p>“Jack! Oceans of love!” Lucy exclaimed pulling away from Quincey’s embrace to greet him. </p><p>Jack nearly ran to her like a puppy upon its owner’s return before tripping over the head of the bear skin rug that dominated the parlor floor. </p><p>“Oh, Jack, my darling!” Lucy said as he stumbled to his knees, cushioned by the hard parquet floor, before her.</p><p>“Oh, poor little baby. Come over here. Come over here and I'll kiss it better,” She said as the man rubbed his knee. </p><p>Doctor Seward seemed to lap up all the attention like a starved man, behaving as if his leg had been mauled off by the dead bear. </p><p>“My poor little blossom. My poor little doctor. Really, doctor. What a naughty bear.  Let me feel...” She said leading him the sit on the divan where she had previously been sitting with the Texan.</p><p>“Arthur Holmwood, Esquire.” The butler announced in automaton fashion.</p><p>In walked a man with a haughty look dressed in a dark indigo three piece suit and even dandier tiny mustache.</p><p>“The future Lord Godalming, he is everything Lucy requires in a husband. Excellent party of good birth and dreadfully wealthy.” Mina said to Agatha, sighing slightly.</p><p>Having been ready to marry a poor solicitor purely for love, she had never understood her friend’s near clinical view of matrimony.</p><p>“Arthur!  Oh, my darling.  Oh, you look wonderful. Like my dress?  It's my snake dress,” Lucy smiled twirling to show him her gown, while Doctor Seward and Mister Morris greeted each other and sat side-by-side on a couch awaiting her dutifully.</p><p>“Come and join the party.” She said tugging Arthur over to the other two men, who stood to attention upon her arrival.</p><p>“So sorry about your hat.” Jack said handing Quincey his squished hat. </p><p>As the men greeted each other with friendly salutations, Lucy turned to smile cheekily at Mina as she removed her earring, tossing it discretely on the floor. </p><p>“Now, I have a little gift for you, it belonged to my mother...” Arthur said taking a small box from his suit pocket and opening it to reveal a delicate diamond choker.</p><p>“Oh a present, how thoughtful.” Lucy said twirling her hair around her finger.</p><p>“Yes and I would very much like it if you would accept it...” He said attempting to put it around her neck.  </p><p>“Excuse me but I think I’ve lost my earring.” Lucy said.</p><p>Upon utterance of those words, the men jumped to attention, going on the grand quest to retrieve the earring from the carpet to win the hand of the fair maiden.</p><p>“Shall we head upstairs to look for Johnny’s things?” Mina said.</p><p>“Yes, good idea.” Agatha said.</p><p>She had quite enough of watching Lucy’s theatrics. Though entertaining at first, it was a bit disheartening to see men so spineless that they feel before her like slaves.</p><p> </p><p>————</p><p> </p><p>“Lucy is a pure and virtuous girl, but I admit that her free way of speaking shocks me sometimes. The truth is that I admire her, and I'm not surprised that men flock around her. But I do apologize if she offended you at all.” Mina said as they sat cross legged on the floor of her room going through boxes of Johnathan’s belongings. </p><p>“Why would she offend me? Because I was a nun? Things far more shocking were said and done in the convent, we were young women just like yourselves.” Agatha said as she scanned through the pages of legal documents.</p><p>Mina nodded with a giggle continuing to search the pages. </p><p>Though pure and virtuous were certainly not words she would used to describe Miss Westenra. Maybe not damned to the fiery pits of Hell, just a stay or two in Purgatory.</p><p>“I had everything moved here after I came back... I just couldn’t bare to live alone.” She said sadly.</p><p>They were going to build a family in that house. It would have been a warm place full of laughter and joy, now it lay cold and abandoned. And when Lucy was married, for it was inevitable, she would have to move back there or to her parent’s house. </p><p>“We will defeat him,” Agatha reassured.</p><p>“But first we must find where he lives and I’m not seeing anything here. Where else could such documents be?”</p><p>“Maybe his boss, Mister Hawkins has them.” </p><p>“Yes, where is he?”</p><p>“Here, the firm is called Hawkins and Wentworth.”</p><p>“Then we shall go there now.”</p><p>“But it’s nearly six o’clock, it’ll be closed, we can go tomorrow.”</p><p>“Yes, tomorrow then.” Agatha conceded as looked out the window at dark night only saved by the orange glow of the street lights.</p><p>Perhaps charging out into the night with a vampire lurking was not the wisest idea.</p><p> </p><p>—————</p><p> </p><p>Bidding Mina goodnight, and having no desire to rejoin the party which was beginning to drag on for it was long past the hour of afternoon tea, Agatha headed to bed.</p><p>Comfy under the luxurious quilts in a soft cotton night gown, she dozed off easily. </p><p> </p><p>—————</p><p>Caught between the oblivion of sleep and the harshness of awakening, her body leaden and languid in all the right ways, Agatha tasted something on her tongue, like fine ambrosia trickling down her throat. </p><p>A dream of tasty delights for she had missed dinner, not that she had eaten much in recent days, maybe her panicked mind was finally ceding to hunger.</p><p>She gulped it down like a woman in a desert. </p><p>It was warm and thick like melted chocolate, yet tasted like a prime cut of steak. </p><p>Copper. Iron. The vile metallic taste of blood. She was drinking blood.</p><p>Coughing and spluttering, she shot up, shaken, expecting the pristine white bedsheets to be bathed in crimson.<br/>
Yet they were still snow white. </p><p>Looking around she expected to see his dark feral eyes, reflecting the light back at her like a beast. </p><p>Thankfully she was alone.</p><p>Calming her breathing, she stood and walked over to the vanity for a glass of water.<br/>
As she poured water from the pitcher, she caught sight of a reflection in the mirror.</p><p>Deathly pale skin. Red rimmed eyes. Sharp fangs. </p><p>The glass shattered into a million pieces on the floor around her. </p><p>Lifting her hand to her face, the mirror image did the same. Bringing her finger to one fang, the sharpness digging into the fleshy pad, the mirror copied her.</p><p>It couldn’t be.</p><p>It wasn’t possible. </p><p>It was undeniable. </p><p>It was her reflection. </p><p>O God. Was she too now a creature of the night?</p><p>Dracula would have a field day with this.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Dear Reader,</p><p>Hope you enjoyed this chapter.</p><p>For a look at the styling, watch the 1992 movie! And Maida Vale is a real place in London, check it out, it’s gorgeous! And though a house in London is never mentioned in book or movie, it comes from the 2013 NBC series!</p><p>As always please do leave a comment and kudos!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Hunting and Proposing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Agatha and Mina go digging for clues to Dracula’s whereabouts.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>London<br/>
1897</em> </p><p>Denial.<br/>
The refusal to acknowledge an unacceptable truth or emotion or to admit it into consciousness.</p><p>To regret one’s own truths is to arrest one’s own development. To deny one’s own truths is to put a lie into the lips of one’s own life. It is no less than a denial of the soul.</p><p>But did her soul even remain?<br/>
If it did, it was surely damned now, she would never greet Saint Peter. </p><p>It was utterly impossible. She had no shown no signs.<br/>
Perhaps by the strength of her will she had cut off her inner intuitive knowledge from her admitted consciousness.<br/>
Instead she had been blind to what she had become.</p><p>There was no point in using the word impossible to describe something that had clearly happened.</p><p>Everything so acutely human, her heartbeat and breathe was gone. If she willed herself to stop going through the motions, paused for but a moment, she was as eerily still as a corpse.<br/>
Agatha Van Helsing was dead. Or rather undead. Either way it was terrible.</p><p>The world around her, the guest bedroom she had become somewhat aquatinted with, was totally changed. </p><p>Everything was sharper.<br/>
Tiny dust mites floating before her eyes now birds in the sky.<br/>
The spider in the corner beneath the cupboard like a cat bouncing around.<br/>
Passing voices on street below sounding as if they were screaming in her ear.</p><p>It would surely drive her mad. It was too much for a person to bear. But she wasn’t a person anymore, was she?</p><p>In the same clothes as the evening before yet they felt different, but they weren’t and yet they were.</p><p>She turned her face from the mirror, dangerous object of vanity, like still water waiting to swallow her whole, and headed out the door.</p><p>At least she had pale blue gloves to cover her claws, for they weren’t overgrown nails, but beastly claws just like his.</p><p>Him. He had done this to her. Well now she was his equal in every way. No. She was more than him, she would not allow herself to become a mindless beast.</p><p>At the bottom of the stairs, Mina awaited her, having already eaten, she was dressed in black mourning and a look of determination.</p><p>“Ready? I have already called for a hansom.” She said, opening the front door, flooding the hallway with light. </p><p>“Yes, let us go, we can’t waste anymore time.” </p><p>Yet at the sight of the sunny street, Agatha paused hesitantly. For all she knew, the sunlight would kill her.<br/>
If so, so be it. She was just as much as a monster as Dracula and deserved the same fate. </p><p>However, surely she had been one for some time now, her nails had been long since her arrival, and since then she had been in the light of day. </p><p>Maybe she wouldn’t burst into flames.</p><p>“You coming?” Mina beckoned standing just outside the doorway, by a small black two-wheeled horse-drawn cab with the driver seated behind.</p><p>“Yes.” Agatha replied with a nod, closing her eyes as she stepped out into the sunlight. </p><p>It was warm, but it didn’t burn.<br/>
There was no fire licking at her like a pyre nor did she simply crumble. </p><p>Mina looked at the woman inquisitively, perhaps it was some form of prayer.<br/>
She climbed into the carriage with the help of the butler.</p><p>Opening her eyes, Agatha smiled knowingly before getting into the carriage with her.</p><p> </p><p>————</p><p> </p><p>The hansom came to halt in front of the building, the name written in crisp letters upon a wooden sign, <em>Hawkins&amp;Wentworth est.1838</em>.<br/>
It was a large red brick building located in Farringdon district, part of the business quarter of the City of London.</p><p>“Come back in an hour.” Mina said to the driver, who nodded before ordering the horse onwards through the busy street.</p><p>“Have you ever met Mr Hawkins?” Agatha asked.</p><p>“No, but I’m sure he’ll be perfectly accommodating, he was very fond of Johnny.” She said as she pushed open the green door.
</p><p> It was a dim room, with two doors to the back and walls of dark green and dark wood.</p><p>“Hello, may I help you?” Asked a prim older lady with perfectly coiffed dark hair with streaks of white, behind a desk, Mr Hawkins’s secretary.
</p><p>“Hello, yes, we would like to Mr Hawkins regarding my fiancé Mr Harker.” Mina said.</p><p>“Oh, yes, of course, I’m ever so sorry about Mr Harker, he was a dear lad.”</p><p>“Thank you.”</p><p>“Well, right this way. Mr Hawkins shouldn’t be too busy now.” The secretary said leading them to the second door which had plaque with the man in question’s name.</p><p>“Mr Hawkins? Sorry to disturb you, but I have here with Mr Harker’s fiancée.”</p><p>“His fiancée? Let her in, Mrs Balcombe, thank you.” Mr Hawkins said.</p><p>The secretary, Mrs Balcombe, stood by to let the two women into the office before closing the door after them.</p><p>“You must be Miss Mina Murray, Mr Harker spoke much of you.” Mr Hawkins said standing to greet them.</p><p>“Yes, Mister Hawkins, I am,” Mina said shaking his hand.</p><p>“And this is my good friend Agatha Van Helsing, she helped Johnathan in Budapest.”</p><p>Agatha shook his hand, hoping the gloves hid how awfully cold she was, but even through them she could feel the warmth of his life.</p><p>A portly man with a large grey moustache tinged ever so slightly yellow from tobacco, he wore a simple charcoal business suit.</p><p>“A pleasure, terribly shame what happened to Johnathan. He was a good man.”</p><p>“That he was. We actually came here about some documents he was working on, an estate transaction, the one that lead him to Romania.” Agatha said.</p><p>“Ah, yes, the one for the foreign Count. I was meant to go myself but my health didn’t permit... but why would two ladies such as yourselves be in need of such papers?”</p><p>“Because..well..” Mina said falling short.</p><p>How to explain that they needed them hunt down said Count?</p><p>“They’re legal documents, private business between this firm and the Count, I can’t be giving them out willy-nilly.”</p><p>“Please Mr Hawkins, it’s a matter of life and death.” Mina pleaded.</p><p>“Matter of life and death?” Mr Hawkins scoffed.</p><p>“You will give us the paperwork concerning the transaction you sent Mr Harker on, yes?” Agatha said staring straight into the man’s eyes. </p><p>There was no more time to waste. Either he gave the documents to them willingly or they would take them. Simple as.</p><p>A strange look seemed to come over the man, his brown eyes glazed over and his face become slack as if in sleep.</p><p>“I will give you the paperwork concerning the transaction I sent Mr Harker on.” He said, his tone hollow and breathy.</p><p>“Good.” Agatha said, as Mina watched puzzled as the man moved to open a filing cabinet, his movements stilted.</p><p>A few moments later, he stood like an automaton waiting to be rewound, handing out a thick brown folder.</p><p>“Thank you, Mr Hawkins, you’ve been of excellent help.” Agatha said taking the folder and heading for the door.</p><p>“Goodbye, Mister Hawkins, it was lovely meeting you, have a good day.” Mina said before following after her, perplexed at what she had witnessed.</p><p>“Did you find what you were looking for?” Mrs Balcombe said.</p><p>“We did, thank you.” Agatha said as she pushed open the door and stepped back out onto the sunny pavement where the hansom cab awaited them.</p><p>She climbed in, waiting for Mina who was trailing behind.</p><p>When she finally caught up and got in, off they went back to Lucy’s house.</p><p> </p><p>————</p><p> </p><p>As they drove, Agatha flicked through the pages, trying to gain some information as to his whereabouts, but there was many pages and it would certainly much longer than a quick flick through to glean anything from them.</p><p>But it was a welcome distraction to constant pounding in her head that came with being around the living. For she had finally realized that it was no her own heartbeat reverberating in her skull but that of people, being Mina at that present moment.</p><p> </p><p>————</p><p> </p><p>”Oh Mina! Mina! You’ll never guess what happened?” Lucy said looking sweeter and lovelier than ever, a bright smile pulling at her perfectly pink lips.</p><p>“What happened?” Mina said, barely in the door.</p><p>“No guess.”</p><p>“I haven’t a clue, Lucy, please just tell me.” Mina said exasperated by her friend’s over bounciness.</p><p>“Oh alright then,” She said leading to sit in the parlor where tea was being served.</p><p>Agatha followed them in, settling herself in the far corner, in a comfy green velvet armchair. where she laid the folder out on the side table and began going through its contents.</p><p>“Here am I, who shall be twenty in September, and yet I never had a proposal till today, not a real proposal, and today I had three. Just fancy! Three proposals in one day! Isn’t it awful! I feel sorry, really and truly sorry, for two of the poor fellows. Oh, Mina, I am so happy that I don’t know what to do with myself. And three proposals!” Lucy exclaimed joyously.</p><p>“Congratulations, Lucy! I am ever so pleased for you,” Mina smiled hugging her friend tightly.</p><p>“So who is the lucky fellow? Was it the Texan with the big knife?”</p><p>“Maybe...First I must tell you of this monumental day,” Lucy said with a smirk.</p><p>“Lucy don’t tease, tell me who.” Mina said before sipping some tea.</p><p>“Well, number One came just before lunch, Dr Jack Seward. He was very cool outwardly, but was nervous all the same. So much so, that he almost managed to sit down on his silk hat, which men don’t generally do when they are cool,” Lucy giggled slightly remembering how silly the bumbling Doctor had been.</p><p>Poor Jack Seward, Mina could imagine how the sensitive Doctor must have felt baring himself to a woman such as Lucy. Like a mouse to a tigress.</p><p>“Spoken very straightforwardly, he told me how dear I was to him, and what his life would be with me to help and cheer him. He was going to tell me how unhappy he would be if I did not care for him, but then I shook my head his hands trembled, and then with some hesitation he asked me if I cared already for any one else,”</p><p>“Of course I told him that there was some one. He looked very strong and very grave as he took both my hands in his and said he hoped I would be happy, and that if I ever wanted a friend I must count him one of my best.”</p><p>“Being proposed to is all very nice and all that sort of thing, but it isn’t at all a happy thing when you have to see a poor fellow, whom you know loves you honestly, going away and looking all broken-hearted, and to know that, no matter what he may say at the moment, you are passing quite out of his life,” Lucy sighed.</p><p>At least the men were still alive, Lucy could see them any time her heart desired. Mina couldn’t help but feel a tad bitter, for her Johnny had truly passed out of her life and it was not something to be taken lightly.
</p><p>“Well, my dear, number Two came after lunch, Mr. Quincey P. Morris. He sat down beside me and looked as happy and jolly but I could see all the same that he was very nervous. He took my hand in his, looking rather serious when he was saying it, and I couldn’t help feeling a bit serious too,”</p><p>“I know you must think me a horrid flirt, though I couldn’t help feeling a sort of exultation that he was number two in one day.”
</p><p>”Of course I don’t, it was quite the day for you, something you had been waiting for many years.” Mina said reassuringly.</p><p>Despite being both wealthy and beautiful, Lucy had never received any serious marriage proposals which had been rather the disappointment. She had been beginning to lose hope, claiming that she was practically already a hag and no one would want her once she reached twenty.</p><p>“And then, my dear, before I could say a word he began pouring out a perfect torrent of romance, laying his very heart and soul at my feet. He was so very earnest, it was terribly awkward,” Lucy said.</p><p>“I suppose he saw something in my face which checked him, for he suddenly stopped, and said with a sort of manly fervour that I could have loved him for if I had been free,”</p><p>“Why can’t they let a girl marry three men, or as many as want her, and save all this trouble? But that is heresy, and I mustn’t say it.” Lucy said giggling loudly when Mina blushed abashedly.</p><p>“No you must not.” Mina said.</p><p>It wasn’t proper to say such things. And she would have been utterly content for all her life with just one man, while Lucy had her pick.</p><p>“Anyways, we agreed to part as good friends.” Lucy shrugged.</p><p>That meant very little, just politeness, but it was nice nonetheless.</p><p>“Oh, and about number Three, it was all so confused; it seemed only a moment from his coming into the room till both his arms were round me, and he was kissing me.” Lucy concluded smiling like the cat who caught the canary.</p><p>“Arthur will make a fine husband, I’m so happy for you.” Mina said hugging her friend again.</p><p>”Just imagine. I shall be Lady Godalming.”</p><p>“Yes congratulations Lucy.” Agatha said from her corner.</p><p>She had only partly payed attention to Lucy’s rambling, far more in the lengthy legal documents before her.</p><p>“Thank you, maybe you shall be next. There will be plenty of men of your years at the Gala.” Lucy said.</p><p>“No, marriage isn’t for me.” Agatha said.
</p><p>She had submitted herself once to a holy marriage with God, and even he probably wanted a divorce by now.</p><p>“Denial will not save you when Cupid's arrow find its mark.” Lucy teased.</p><p>“If I see Cupid anywhere in my vicinity, I’ll be divesting him of his wings.” Agatha scoffed
</p><p>And anyways, love could never happen now that she was an immortal night creature, there was no point in it if there was no growing old together, without that it would only be heartbreak.</p><p>Lucy giggled obnoxiously at that and returned to her trivial chatter about wedding planning with Mina.</p><p>And it wasn’t as if, Agatha had time for romance, all her time was taken up with finding and destroying the Count.<br/>
Indeed, there was no extra space in her mind for love when all of it was occupied by Dracula.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Dear Reader,</p><p>I was initially going to put the Gala part in this chapter, but I found that it was far too long with it and it deserves its own chapter.</p><p>So next chapter shall be the reunion of our favorite pair.</p><p>Hope you enjoyed this chapter in the meanwhile.</p><p>As always, do please leave a comment and kudos!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. The Thrill of The Hunt</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Agatha hunts for her vampire.<br/>Dracula hunts for brides.<br/>But the concrete jungle is only so big, it was only a matter of time till their paths crossed again.</p><p>                            ~~~</p><p>The music I had in mind, which will hopefully be interesting if you wish to set the scene better.</p><p> </p><p>  <a href="https://youtu.be/hgIc3fj9iuU">Lucy and Dracula waltz</a></p><p> <a href="https://youtu.be/35Mc1HY_bR8">Lucy’s Dream</a><br/> <br/><a href="https://youtu.be/2Sb8WCPjPDs">Agatha and Mina arrival</a></p><p> </p><p>  <a href="https://youtu.be/7gF6A04vZiI">Agatha and Dracula waltz</a></p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
       <em>London<br/>
1897</em> </p><p>Hunting.<br/>
Equally to pursue and kill as to search determinedly for someone or something.<br/>
The ultimate difference being the conclusion. Life or Death.</p><p>A relic of the barbarous spirit that thirsted formerly for human blood, but was now content with the blood of birds and animals.<br/>
The need to hunt and kill prey, near intrinsic, for even when meat could be bought, the wealthy made sport of it.</p><p>For one would not be human if one did not prefer to be the devourer rather than the devoured.</p><p>But she was no longer human, she was the other, the predator. The devourer of Man. Still thirsting for human blood.</p><p>However her current prey was one of her own kind. For was it not terribly human to hunt one another? Man was wolf to Man, after all. </p><p>And to track prey, one must first know it as one knows oneself.<br/>
Agatha was still working on that part.</p><p>They had spent the day with their noses buried in the hundreds of pages given to them by Mr Hawkins.<br/>
That was Mina and she had, for Lucy was far more preoccupied with fluffing her feathers up just right for the evening’s entertainment.</p><p>Yet all they had come up with were the addresses of so many properties scattered throughout London and as far afield as Ireland, that it would take them months to search all. Though at the very least they could rule out the Dublin house out since he was for certain in London or the surrounding area.</p><p>“It’s like looking for needle in a haystack. How are we going to find him? He could just escape from one place to another.” Mina said sighing exasperatedly.</p><p>“We will work through deduction, starting with the properties near the East End and work our way from there.” Agatha said.</p><p>Though there was around fifty locations, only half or so were located in London itself so that narrowed it down somewhat.</p><p>“What on earth are you two doing? You should be getting ready to go. Honestly it’s like you don’t even want to go,” Lucy said as she pushed open the door, barging into Mina’s room which had become their base of operations.</p><p>“The party begins in an hour, at this rate we’re going to be late and I absolutely can’t be since Arthur is hosting.” </p><p>“You could always go on ahead of us, we won’t mind, we’ll catch up with you later.” Mina said.</p><p>“Yes, I suppose I will have to. Well don’t be too late.” </p><p>“We won’t, I promise, now off you go, I’m  sure Arthur will be waiting for you.” </p><p>“He will, won’t he? He’s just a darling like that. I’ll see you later then.” Lucy smiled leaving them.</p><p>“We probably should start getting ready.” Mina said looking to Agatha as she stood, brushing the wrinkles from her skirt.</p><p>“Are you certain we must go?” Agatha said standing, the papers were left as they were, as to picked from where she left off upon her return. </p><p>“Yes, you’ll enjoy yourself and we can always leave early if it is indeed so terrible.” </p><p>With that, they both went off to dress themselves up, though they were unlikely to reach the same level of expertise as Lucy, who made primping oneself into an art form. </p><p> </p><p>—————</p><p> </p><p>Music embraced her, spinning her out of control. </p><p>She found herself in a different world.<br/>
A world of wonderful oblivion. Her movements flowed with a dazzling grace that took away the breath of every person in her audience. Her very soul became one with the music and she unleashed her emotions into her dance. She needed this as badly as she needed to breath. Her entire being moved with a purposeful clarity. With each stride she made, it became more painfully obvious how very lost she was. To dance was freedom, to dance was to become an opening flower or a bird aloft. </p><p>And Lucy so desired freedom. </p><p>So she gave it her all, while her fiancé was off playing the perfect host, for this would be the last taste she would get, for courtship was to marriage, as a very witty prologue to a very dull play. And she was anything but a dull girl. </p><p>An emerald gown of satin, iridescent with embroidered gems and bardot neckline emphasizing the pulse in her pale, swan-like neck.<br/>
Curling red hair, standing out against the delicate white narcissi woven within, spilling down one shoulder and onto her gown that glimmered like a fish’s tail.<br/>
A stark contrast to the preferable pastels of young ladies. </p><p>There was potential there. </p><p>The music ended.</p><p>Her current dance partner left, unable to keep up. </p><p>A hand grasped her by the wrist, running a cold thumb along the gloved skin underneath. </p><p>It introduced itself, but she didn’t listen, it sounded vaguely familiar, but the orchestra was already starting up again. </p><p>“—Allow me to call you mine for a dance or two...” He said.</p><p>Lucy nodded, never one to turn down a dance, with a smile that normally made men fall to their knees before her, but he didn’t.<br/>
Instead he gave her a grin, and started to lead her into a fast flowing waltz around the dance floor.</p><p>Around and around they went, all the couples spinning faster and faster. Heart beating faster. </p><p>Her counterpart towered over her, his grip on her firm as she raised her eyes to his.<br/>
Eyes feral black, the forbidden, draw her into their inky depths. </p><p>Down she fell. Down, down into them like a rabbit hole. Tumbling in free fall through the air, she spun like an autumn leaf caught in a gust.</p><p>The music ended or did it?<br/>
She wasn’t quite certain anymore, too caught in his net.</p><p>Cold night air prickled her skin.<br/>
When had they gone outside?</p><p>She was sitting on a bench, the cold stone sleeping through the many layers of fabric. </p><p>A shiver ran down her spin, dread filled her, why? </p><p>His face came closer, so what if he kissed her? No one would know, it would their secret.<br/>
She giggled, his lips are icy against her already frozen skin. </p><p>A gasp before oblivion swallowed her whole. </p><p> </p><p>—————</p><p> </p><p>Exotic rhythmic beat to which bodies undulate like dancing cobras.</p><p>The taste of spicy incense on her tongue like the warm tanned skin of the women who move like water in shimmering attire in vibrant hues. Loose and floating, no more corseted gowns to cage her in. </p><p>Yet no one looked at her despite how she stuck out like sore thumb. </p><p>The thrum of the music sunk into her bones, her hips swaying to tantalizing freedom. </p><p> </p><p>—————</p><p> </p><p>A delightful little dessert like bitter raspberry tart.<br/>
A very distinct flavor. Something that would require further sampling.<br/>
She would make a promising bride.<br/>
Not quite a replacement for Her but sufficient nonetheless.</p><p>Dracula left his newest bride in opiate induced bliss in the garden seat and headed back in.<br/>
He had seen Versailles in its hay day and even it wasn’t as gaudy as the opulent display of wealth on show inside.</p><p> </p><p>—————</p><p> </p><p>The Ball was already in full swing when they arrived some hours after Lucy.</p><p>As Agatha and Mina walked up the great staircase, flooded with light, and lined with sweet scented flowers and footmen in powder and red coats. From the room came a constant, steady hum as if from a hive, and the rustle of movement.<br/>
The careful, distinct notes of a waltz.</p><p>The large gilt doors to ballroom were opened for them by the footmen. </p><p>A vivid spectacle of bodies moving in harmony across a marble floor.<br/>
A golden sheen befell the hall through the splinters of light that caught the gems of the chandelier and showered the guests with honey dew.<br/>
Magnificent floral pieces of pashmina and satin sheathed the blushing ladies while the ebony suited men braved their hearts and lead their counterparts in waltz.<br/>
The mirrored walls made it appear as if the room was filled by an endless multitude of dancing couples.</p><p>It was quite a sight to behold, something she had never witnessed. </p><p>Making their way around the ballroom, for the center of the floor was dedicated to dance, they were met by Dr Seward. </p><p>“Miss Murray, Miss Van Helsing, delighted to see you again, I hope you are enjoying yourself.” He said, dressed in the most simple of suits.</p><p>“Please do call me Mina. We just arrived, have you seen Lucy?” Mina said with a smile.</p><p>“Then you must call me Jack, and no I have not but I can help you search for her if you would like.”</p><p>“No, no, I’m sure she’s having fun wherever she is.”</p><p>“Yes, Lucy is rather good at having fun... Perhaps a drink while we admire the art in the other room, Godalming Manor is quite the museum.” Jack said offering his arm.</p><p>“Of course, lead the way. Agatha, are you coming?” Mina said taking his arm.</p><p>“No, I think I shall watch the dancing for a bit.” </p><p>“Alright, we shall come and find you later.” Mina smiled before heading off arm in arm with Jack Seward into the throngs of guests.</p><p>Agatha settled herself amongst the audience nearer to the ornate gilded walls of mirrors, far more content to observe than participate. </p><p>She could feel it anyway. The ticking of dangerous steps across her brain, the trip of fire down her spine, the serpentine coil of heat low in her belly. She heard the sweet, lulling whisper of bloody desire and demons in the shell of her ear.<br/>
Still, Agatha was stone. Poised marble, jutting her sharp chin more defiantly out while her eyes shot arrows of supremacy at any fool who dared to look yet she watched her fill of everyone else.</p><p>Like mating birds flaunting their best plumage, the dancers spun in a dizzying array of colored silk in all the shades of the rainbow.<br/>
Above them a ceiling fresco of heavenly bodies in muted shades, while below remained a vibrant homage to opulent sin.</p><p>Dracula circled the dance floor with the keen of eye of a trained hunter.<br/>
What exactly he was looking for, he wasn’t certain but he would know when he saw it. The perfect bride.<br/>
For one candidate was not enough, the more subjects the better his odds of success. </p><p>There.<br/>
Across the room.<br/>
A paradise island amongst a sea of mediocrity.</p><p>No it couldn’t be.<br/>
She was dead and gone.<br/>
Maybe she had finally decided to come back and haunt him. To drive him mad as a remnant of her former earthly form.</p><p>A single object so removed in the gilded room, the candles burning bright and casting their glow onto her ethereal steeliness.</p><p>Her dark blood red, near wine-dark dress pinched at the waist, her hair swept up and back in propriety’s style, the black beaded lace cuffed sleeves severe in their formal lines and its neckline high and tight like a collar.<br/>
When she breathed, it was small and stiff, as though anything more would threaten to break her ribs. Her arms were bare to the forearm where they are wrapped in silken black gloves, as if fearful of her own touch.</p><p>There she was. Very much not dead. Standing to the side, so beautiful, so radiant that he could not see anyone else. </p><p>Suddenly the rest of the world seemed like such a chore. He didn’t want to dance with young ladies he didn’t know, or to make polite conversation for the sake of finding a meal or bride. He just wanted Agatha, and he wanted her all to himself. He forgot about finding someone else to toy with.</p><p>He stalked across the room with such single-minded purpose that the crowds seemed to melt from his path. And somehow, amazingly, the rest of the world had not yet noticed her. She was so beautiful, so uncommonly alive and real in this room full of waxen dolls. </p><p>A tingle began at the base of her neck, traveling all the way down her to settle somewhere near the base of her spin.</p><p>It was warm and pleasant, like the sun’s rays on a spring day. </p><p>She knew it was him, like the birds know a storm is brewing long before people do, even though she couldn’t see him. </p><p>“Agatha?” </p><p>It was so soft, like the gentle caress of his hands which felt surprisingly alive against her perpetually frozen bare arms.</p><p>She was still, unmoving like statue, not exactly the desired affect. For a moment he wondered if it was even her.</p><p>Her name uttered in his familiar tone, devoid of any of the usual mockery, sounded like both a benediction and a curse, and Agatha wasn’t sure which she would prefer. </p><p>“Count Dracula.” She said turning to face him, her eyes full of contempt and flicker of something more that spurred him on.</p><p>“You’re not dead...” He said sounding almost shocked.</p><p>“No, it appears I am not.” She retorted, taking pride in shaking someone who has seen so much.</p><p>The scent of her spicy floral perfume didn’t mask the scent of Death.</p><p>“Are you sure?” He asked with a smirk.</p><p>Agatha frowned, looking away despondently.<br/>
Of course he would remind her of her un-death. </p><p>“What do you want?” She snapped. </p><p>“The usual...” He shrugged.</p><p>Clearly she was not willingly to accept her new, status. Another time then, for now he wished to enjoy her company.</p><p>“Care to dance?” Dracula asked with smile offering her his hand.</p><p>“Do I have a choice?” Agatha sighed.</p><p>“You always have a choice, Darling.” </p><p>Rolling her eyes with a slight smile tugging at her painted lips, she placed her gloved hand in his as he pulled her out into a lilting waltz.</p><p>As he entered the dance floor with her on his arm, he felt both humbled and proud. 
Agatha was a brilliant diamond, rendering the rest into cheap coloured glass.</p><p>“I see we’re back to formalities again.” He said as he placed one hand against her lower back pushing her closely to him.</p><p>“First names are for friends and we are not friends.” She replied delicately holding the train of her skirt up in one hand and taking his in other.</p><p>They were far too close for propriety but then again they had never been very proper.<br/>
The lingering scent of blood on his breath flooded her senses, a heady, intoxicating smell that made her fangs lower just a tad.</p><p>“No. We’re not, are we?” He chuckled.</p><p>Friendship was never intended for them. No, they were something much more. </p><p>As they danced, they both challenged the other’s move with their own. Long forgotten was the room around them. </p><p>“Your dancing has improved...Did you have a taste of your little friends while I was gone?”</p><p>She carried herself with grace that no dame on the floor possessed and he the skill of centuries, outstripping the variety of strutting peacocks decorating the ballroom.</p><p>“No. I would never. I don’t know why I can dance now, don’t you? This is your fault after all.” She glowered. </p><p>He had turned her into what she was no. Had cursed her with eternal life, or rather un-death for she would never be allowed to truly live. </p><p>“My fault? Really, Agatha, you should be thanking me, I likely saved you from certain death. Drowning is such a painful way to go.”</p><p>“I am dead anyways, what difference would it make?”</p><p>“No, you’re not, you’re alive, so much more alive than anyone else in this room. They’re dying, even now as they laugh and play, they’re dying, they have been since they were born. It’s what mortals do.”</p><p>“You would know all about that, wouldn’t you? More than happy to help them shuffle off their mortal coil.” </p><p>After all he was a killer. Had likely killed more people than were in the room. But then again so was she, she had just kept herself in check so far, but how easy it would be to just let go.</p><p>For even though they were still dancing together, it felt as though they were circling each other predatorily, closing in, two hunting wolves amongst a flock of sheep.</p><p>“I do what I can,” He grinned.</p><p>“But you, you could be so much more than them. You have so much potential and now you’re free of all those pesky mortal trappings... I could teach you, show the world through our eyes.” He said, his voice calm and strong, like his hand splayed against her back, anchoring her as they spun. </p><p>It called to the deepest, darkest parts of her. The ones that kept the glinting sapphire wedding ring permanently affixed to her left hand.</p><p>“Thank you but I’m managing just fine on my own so far.” She said.</p><p>At some point she had let go of her skirt and now her hand rested at the base of his coal-black hair.</p><p>“I know you Agatha Van Helsing, your sin is your curiosity, you cannot stand not knowing all the secrets. How could you live not even knowing all of yourself.”</p><p>“How can you know all of me when you don’t even know all of yourself.” She countered with a sardonic smile. </p><p>Dracula wasn’t God. No matter what he claimed, he was not omniscient. </p><p>“Be ruled by me. Forget about them.” He said.</p><p>The attempt at charismatic command came off more as pleading. His voice cracking and for once she saw not the suave façade of flippancy that was Count Dracula but perhaps who he might have been, lonely Vlad who just wanted someone to spend an eternity with.</p><p>And it was tempting. Too tempting.<br/>
For eternity was such a very long time and she could never be one of them ever again.<br/>
When this was over, she would have to leave, to never be known by a living being ever again for she was certain she could not bear the heartbreak of watching those she cared about die. Forever alone. And yet with him, she would never be.</p><p>All it would take was a kiss to seal her fate. And his lips were so very close, she barely have to move to join them with her own.</p><p>“Agatha! Something has happened to Lucy. I fear the worst. Her neck is bloody.” Mina exclaimed drawing her from her thoughts.</p><p>With the aid of Dr Seward, she was carrying the limp from of Lucy, her dark green gown stained with red blood in a gory imitation of Christmas.</p><p>“Take your foul hands off of me.” Agatha said suddenly, cold, pulling away from him. </p><p>To think she nearly fell for his flattery.</p><p>Dracula looked at her surprised at her sudden outburst before seeing the limp redhead cradled in Johnathan’s fiancée’s arms. </p><p>“Agatha, I...” He whispered nearly ashamed of what he had done but he was lost for words at the hateful look in her hazel eyes.</p><p>How dare she make him feel like that? A flicker of an emotion so suppressed and forgotten. Like a canon ball had been dropped on his chest. If he had a beating heart, he might think he was dying.</p><p>“You! You monster.” Mina exclaimed pointing at him, her worst fears realized. </p><p>She drew the attention of some of the guests, yet they did not intervene, figuring it must be some lovers quarrel.</p><p>“Funny, your fiancé said something similar.” Dracula said with a malicious sneer.</p><p>Why were his arms wrapped around the woman who was supposed to be her savior?</p><p>“Goodbye dearest wife, I shall miss you.” He said blowing a kiss to Agatha before disappearing in a puff of acrid smoke that drew strange looks from the other dancers.</p><p>“Just a little magic show.” Jack Seward said dismissing the curious onlookers.</p><p>Mina looked at the woman she had deemed a friend as if she were a leper, remaining a safe distance away from her lest she catch the awful contagion of that beast.</p><p>Agatha stared at the spot as if he would materialize again from thin air.<br/>
Somehow she felt as if she had let something deeply important slip through her fingers.</p><p>The scent of blood caught her off guard, of course, Lucy, because Dracula had always been a messy eater.</p><p>Ignore it. That was all she could do.</p><p>Suddenly joining him seemed a lot more appealing than dealing with Mina’s worried stares and onslaught of questions.</p><p>Then again he was a murderer.<br/>
Though with the perplexed and condescending glares branding her skin and the pungent aroma of blood permeating the air, she felt as if she was only a few steps behind.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Dear Reader,</p><p>They have finally reunited. Well not really, it’s a little early for that.</p><p>Hope you enjoyed this chapter.<br/>This story is now two months old! </p><p>Thank you so much for your continued support of this! All your comments and kudos mean the world to me! I love reading them!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Sweet Suspicion</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Fraternizing with enemy has made Agatha suspicious.<br/>Dracula visits his newest toy.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
<em>London<br/>
1897 </em> </p><p>Suspicion.<br/>
Humans are suspicious and jealous creatures. When they see something perfect, they want to find a flaw.</p><p>More than likely originating in precautionary fear, the desire to survive in  always expecting the worst.<br/>
Who knew if a predator was hidden in the grass or beneath a fleshy human exterior.</p><p>Sometimes your dearest friend whom you reveal most of your secrets to becomes so deadly and unfriendly without knowing that they were not really your friend.</p><p>Friends ask you questions; enemies question you.</p><p>For now, Mina had not spoken a word to her, though Agatha could feel her cold blue eyes burning holes in her skin as she stared out at the dark streets.</p><p>“Shouldn’t she have come round by now?” Mina asked looking down at Lucy’s passive expression, her head cradled in her lap.</p><p>“Not necessarily, with acute blood loss it could take some time.” Jack said, her legs across his lap.</p><p>“Poor dear.”</p><p>“Don’t worry, Mina, once we get her home, I’ll personally see to her medical care ...”</p><p>She should have been suspicious at the warmth in his touch or the whiff of blood on his breath. Yet instead, Agatha had twirled around the dance floor with him.</p><p>What did she expect?<br/>
Of course Dracula had come to the Gala to look for some poor unfortunate soul to harvest.<br/>
But why Lucy? </p><p>Besides her undeniable good looks, she was a rather one dimensional girl.</p><p>Perhaps that was all he wanted. A pretty face. Something nice to look at, like a piece of Art to hang on a wall and gaze at for all eternity.</p><p>And to think she had been tempted to accept his offer.</p><p>Or maybe she wasn’t just a pretty face, the sweetness of her blood lingering in the air certainly was intoxicating. </p><p>Fixated on the dark streets passing them at the gentle pace of the carriage, the gnawing need continued to gnaw at her resolve. Her fangs dug into her gums, her mouth firmly sealed, reminding her of her own monstrosity.</p><p>She was just like Him.</p><p> </p><p>————</p><p> </p><p>“—she’s resting now. I’ve cleaned her up. She came around somewhat to smelling salts and I got her to drink a little.” Jack said entering the parlor.</p><p>Arriving back to the Westenra’s home, Dr Seward had tended to Lucy, not that there was much he could do.</p><p>“Thank you, Jack, you’ve been a great help.” Mina said cradling a cup of tea.</p><p>“Not at all, Lucy is my friend, I shall endeavor to help her as best I can.”</p><p>“There won’t be much you can do... You saw him, didn’t you?”</p><p>“Who? Lucy has just hurt herself, she’ll be fine by tomorrow morning.”</p><p>“Didn’t you see that monster?”</p><p>“I don’t know what I saw.” Jack said firmly. </p><p>He had seen a man dancing with Miss Van Helsing who seemingly disappeared into smoke. It didn’t make any sense.</p><p>“Nor did I at first. But that man took my Johnny and now he wishes to take my Lucy.” Mina said sadly.</p><p>“He won’t get her, Mina, I promise.” Agatha said.</p><p>Hidden away in her customary corner of the parlor, fangs gone, she felt able to fix any damage done by the Count.</p><p>“He’s already gotten her!” Mina snapped,</p><p>How long would it be before her dearest friend met the same fate as her fiancé?</p><p>“While you danced around with him, Lucy was outside nearly drained of blood.”</p><p>And that beast had called her wife.<br/>
Not bride.<br/>
What did that mean?<br/>
Was she like him? Like her poor Johnny?<br/>
It was unlikely the former nun would be willing to speak of it.</p><p>“I think I’ll be going...” Jack said standing and backing towards the door slowly. </p><p>“She can still be saved.” Agatha said.</p><p>Could she?<br/>
Everyone who came in contact with the vampire never came out unscathed.<br/>
They were always changed. Shadows of their former selves.<br/>
But maybe, just maybe, there was a way to make sure Lucy came out alive at the very least.</p><p>“Yes, we’ve kept you far too long. Goodnight Jack.” Mina said with a polite smile.</p><p>“Not at all. Goodnight Miss Mina, Miss Van Helsing.” Jack nodded before leaving.</p><p>“I’m going to bed as well, long day and all that.” Mina said, standing and heading for the staircase.</p><p>“I’m sorry, I truly am. But I will do everything in my power to save her.” Agatha said.</p><p>“I know you will, goodnight Agatha.” Mina sighing leaving her alone as she went upstairs.</p><p>“Goodnight Mina.”</p><p>Not that she could sleep herself.<br/>
The night had become her day. It enveloped her like inky velvet, comforted by the cape of darkness.<br/>
Her only true companion was herself.</p><p>And yet there was another.<br/>
If she only let herself want.</p><p>Maybe in another life.<br/>
One where they were not themselves.</p><p>But alas in this life, or eternity, they were to be polar opposites.</p><p>The dance between darkness and light will always remain. The stars and the moon will always need the darkness to be seen, the darkness will just not be worth having without the moon and the stars.</p><p>The eternal ebb and flow of both Light and Dark, Day and Night. Without it, Life would simply cease to be.</p><p>And o how they danced.<br/>
With far more skill than upon the Demeter, yet lacking a certain something. Privacy maybe. Intimacy?</p><p>The ticking of the clock eventually lulled her off to sleep. </p><p> </p><p>————</p><p> </p><p>Someone just like him.</p><p>It had only taken nearly half a millennia.<br/>
And he had lost over some dime a dozen socialite.<br/>
That was definitely a faux pas on his part.<br/>
But Dracula was nothing if not determined.</p><p>Everything had always been leading up to this. Finding the one person, the perfect bride, who could fill the void in his soul. But of course, in a life as long and singular as Dracula's, there always had to be something more.<br/>
Bitter Irony that that person had to be his natural enemy. A nun. Someone who hated him purely for existing. </p><p>Nonetheless he would have her.</p><p>Soon.<br/>
He would wait.<br/>
He was very good at waiting. It was cruel, the waiting. This existence. And Agatha was cruel here too, although he knew that cruel was never something she endeavored to be. It wasn't in her nature, so he could forgive her this trespass. Just this once. Agatha would never prolong someone's suffering and isolation. If there were one creature alive who understood the anguish of isolation, of uniqueness, it was her. </p><p>Somehow, despite only a blip in time with  her, his clothing now owned smells of her particular fragrance, and for the tiniest moment it was all not true, and that she was his. </p><p>But for now he would content himself with the insipid Miss Westenra.</p><p>Though she was nothing special, he had come across a million of her type over his years.<br/>
Entertaining for bit but ultimately unsatisfying.</p><p>There was a little something about her.<br/>
A taste of overwhelming sweetness. Like biting into an overripe strawberry. Mushy and cloyingly sweet, with an aftertaste of rot.</p><p>Winter trees lined the avenue. Their denuded forms standing starkly against the white plaster of the building, almost like charcoal outlines sketched by a passing artist.</p><p>Crawling up the damp back wall of the townhouse like the ivy, he weaved his way up the pale bricks, his long black cape flowing behind like great wings.<br/>
Knowing which window was hers from memories not his own, the lingering scent of her blood in the air, he could almost taste it on his tongue.</p><p>“Lucy,” He purred tapping a long nail on the glass.</p><p>Upon the bed, meticulously tucked in, laid Lucy, her red hair licking at her pale skin like fire.</p><p>She seemed quite unconscious, so he called again.</p><p>Twisting and turning as if ants had entered her bed, her eyelids snapped open, glossy blue eyes, not quite as blue as his Johnny blue-eyes, her head turning to the window in mechanical fashion.</p><p>“Lucy...Lucy, Lucy... Invite me in.” Dracula said, pushing open the window.</p><p>“Come in, please do come in... Dracula...” She begged in breathy tones.</p><p>“That’s a good girl,” He grinned slipping in through the window and gliding like a specter over to her bedside.</p><p>“I’m so sorry our dance was cut short but you see I was a bit...ravenous.” </p><p>He knelt down, grasping her face, twisting it to the side to expose her porcelain neck, marred and poorly tended to.</p><p>“She spoke of you...Warned me...They think I’m dumb, I’m not. I know what is dangerous, I just don’t care.” Lucy muttered.</p><p>“Of course you aren’t, but do shut up, I don’t like it when food talks.” He said removing the silly piece of fabric from her throat.</p><p>She nodded raising a finger to her lips and giving him a sugary smile.</p><p>Dracula rolled his eyes, at least she was obedient, opening his mouth, leaning down to reopen her jugular vein.</p><p>“Wait. She? Who’s she?”</p><p>Lucy mumbled something her sealed lips.</p><p>“You can speak.”</p><p>“She’s a nun, or used to be, her name is Agatha, she lives here.” Lucy said.</p><p>“Agatha is here. In this house?”</p><p>“Yes. Why? Do you like her?” She teased playfully.</p><p>“Be quiet, I’m thinking and you’re my midnight snack.” Dracula growled.</p><p>What do?<br/>
She was so near.<br/>
When he concentrated, he could nearly feel her, like a buzz in the back of his mind. </p><p>First his food, it would be a shame to let her go to waste.</p><p>Sinking his fangs into her, giving her a pretty dream, he drank shallowly, not quite ready to kill her off just yet.</p><p> </p><p>————</p><p> </p><p>What time was it?<br/>
She must have dozed off.</p><p>Strange, she could have swore she heard Lucy.</p><p>Stretching, Agatha stood, walking up the stairs, the polished bannister dragging her up.</p><p>Rubbing her eyes, she headed down the hallway of shadows to the guest room when she heard what sounded like a moan from Lucy’s.</p><p>“Lucy? Are you alright?” She asked knocking on the door.</p><p>When no answer came, she plastered her hear to the door, listening carefully.</p><p>Slurping, deep breathing, moaning in pained pleasure.</p><p>Maybe Mr Holmwood or one of her other numerous suitors were visiting.</p><p>Or maybe it was something much more insidious.</p><p>Pushing open the door, the latter it was.</p><p>A wave of blood hit her, sweet and distinctively Lucy’s.</p><p>“Dracula.” Agatha growled.</p><p>“Agatha, I didn’t know you were here,” The Count said pulling away from his snack to wipe his lips.</p><p>“Care to join me?” He said gesturing to the bloodied unconscious woman. </p><p>“I’m sure you’re starved with all that devout abstinence you go for. You shouldn’t suppress your appetites, it isn’t healthy.” He chastised with a grin. </p><p>It would be too easy to lean down and christen her newly grown fangs in the sweet red liquid. </p><p>“What was she to you? She was nothing to you, no more than face. And you already fed tonight... You filthy, greedy leech,” Agatha said glaring at him. </p><p>“Is that all that matters to you? A pretty trophy to keep locked up in your crumbling castle?” She scoffed.</p><p>“No, of course not,” He hissed and waved that away.  </p><p>“Why? Are you jealous?” He teased.</p><p>Was she? Certainly she must be for he was giving the redhead more attention. Did that mean she cared for him?</p><p>“Of course not!” Agatha snapped.</p><p>Was she?<br/>
Lucy was everything she was not after all.<br/>
All Life and sweetness and beauty.</p><p>“Good because you are worth ten thousand of her...” He began. </p><p>“No. That’s not acceptable to me.” </p><p>He was quiet. Staring at her with those dark eyes , mouth open, stained crimson, and working as if he wanted to argue, but was at a complete loss as to what to say.</p><p>“Just go. Get out of my sight. I never want to see you again, you are a vile disease and I will not have you infecting anyone else.” Agatha said, her tone hateful and cold.</p><p> “Agatha...” Dracula said looking almost guilty, almost that was. </p><p>Leaning closer, perfectly composed, Agatha uttered just a simple sentence, </p><p>“Count Dracula you are no longer welcome in this house.” </p><p>Her words were full of venom, knowing he would have no choice but to obey, for whatever reason which apparently did not apply to her.</p><p>Paling, which was quite the feat on one so deathly colored already, he looked at her almost tearfully as if some terrible ill had be done, and, as if burned, bolted out the window, slithering down the wall like a lizard and running off down the street and back in the night where he could remain hidden from her cutting gaze.</p><p>Her eyes followed him as his scurried off like a frightened rabbit, she nearly felt sorry for him, though more embarrassed than anything else.<br/>
How pathetic. And to think she had thought he was the Devil incarnate.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Dear Reader,</p><p>And they met again!<br/>Agatha was definitely a tad vicious! What do you think?</p><p>As always please do leave a kudos and comment!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Pallid Wedding Planning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Following Dracula’s reappearance, Lucy’s health begins to deteriorate as does Agatha’s sanity.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
<em>London<br/>
1897 </em> </p><p>Was omitting the truth still lying?</p><p>A concealed truth, that was all a lie was. Either by omission or commission we never do more than obscure. The truth stays in the undergrowth, waiting to be discovered. </p><p>Hidden away, little sins of omission that now loomed large, so many little pebbles that weighed down upon her shoulders like a mountain.</p><p>Encroaching over their heads like dreadful black clouds that could lead to nothing good.</p><p>That terrible night had not been spoken of, for it would only serve to worry dear Mina further. Fortunately Lucy seemed not to recall any of it, or at least never said a word.</p><p>Yet omitting what had transpired had not made it so it never happened. The acts of that night rippled through them like a great lock, so deep and murky, who knew what hid in its depths.</p><p>Lucy, the poor child, had lately taken to her old habit of walking in her sleep. </p><p>Mina had spoken of it, for they had grown together, and it had been decided that the only course of action was to lock the door of the rooms every night. </p><p>The running idea being that sleep-walkers always went out on roofs of houses and along the edges of cliffs and then got  suddenly wakened and fell over with a despairing cry that echoed all over the place. </p><p>Yet despite the locks, something crept in each night, draining Lucy of her lively glow and leaving a blood red rose upon Agatha’s in its place.</p><p>Not easily found in the winter.<br/>
Perfect crimson petals, like the finest velvet against her lips, and sharp thorns like needles that snapped against her fingers. </p><p>The color alone gloated at her. Reminding her of the empty pity which had replaced her stomach. A gnawing blackhole which demanded that which she would not give.</p><p>Her numerous sins of omission, that ate away at her, nibble by nibble. By the end of this ordeal, she would be nothing more than a pile of bones. But they had been done in the right heart, to save Mina from the bloody truth. And what was one more sin to her already lengthy list?</p><p>Each taunting bloom was promptly tossed out the window.</p><p> </p><p>——————</p><p> </p><p>Despite her outwardly ill appearance, Lucy was more than content to lounge most days, on the divan in parlor, giving orders on this and that like an great empress commanding an army.</p><p>After all, she was to be married in the autumn, which hardly gave her much time to arrange everything.</p><p>“—What do you think of this one?” She asked twirling around as a little old lady, a seamstress probably, flitted around her. </p><p>“Yes, it’s very nice.” Mina said, from her position as chief bridesmaid.</p><p>She would have been matron of honor, but no, that title was stolen from her. Her white dress stained red then torn to shreds by that beast.<br/>
And despite her delight for her friend’s happiness, she couldn’t help but feel a tad bitter.<br/>
It should have been her planning out the running of her household with Johnny. </p><p>“Good afternoon, Agatha.” Mina said, as she entered.</p><p>“Good afternoon.” Agatha said.</p><p>Mornings were lost to her it seemed, she was luckily if she saw any daylight anymore. Not that it was to feared. By that was one omission she would be keeping for a little while longer.</p><p>“Agatha, what do you think of my dress?”</p><p>It looked more like ten dresses patched together into one horrible puffy monstrosity. Too many frills, too much lace, way over the top.<br/>
And the off-white color seemed to blend in with her pallid face. </p><p>“It’s lovely, but I’m really no expert on wedding dresses.” Agatha said taking her seat in the corner with the papers on the Count. </p><p>The few properties that she had scouted out, alone, for Mina had delayed with her fretting over Lucy, had proved less than fruitful. In fact there hadn’t been a single trace of the vampire or any other creature.</p><p>“No, I suppose not, always the bridesmaid, or rather nun...never the bride.” Lucy giggled, returning to admiring herself in the mirror.</p><p>“Dr. Seward, Miss Lucy.” The Butler announced.</p><p>“Oh, Jack. Brilliant Jack. Do you like it?” Lucy said showing off the dress, stepping from the mirror, to which he gaped like a fish.</p><p>The seamstress skittered off, not needed any longer.</p><p>“Did Arthur put you up to this or did you want me see just once before I'm married?”</p><p>“Miss Lucy, you are embarrassing me.  I am here as your doctor,” Jack said blushing terribly.</p><p>“Have you seen Arthur recently? He’s away with his father and I miss him so.” Lucy said.</p><p>”I have not, but I’m certain he will visit soon.”</p><p>“I called Dr Seward, Jack here. Everyone is very worried about you.” Mina said.</p><p>Her health had deteriorated over the past few days.<br/>
Her thick tresses of red hair had thinned and gone limp, her skin had lost its luster. The overall effect was one of extreme pallor.<br/>
Since that damnable Gala. They shouldn’t have gone.</p><p>“I assure you a doctor's confidence is sacred. I must have your complete trust.” Jack said. </p><p>“Help me, Jack. I don't know what's happening to me. I'm changing. I can feel it. I can hear everything. I hear the servants at the other end of the house whispering. I hear mice in the attic stomping like elephants. But I'm having horrible nightmares, Jack.  The eyes! Oh, Jack.”  Lucy exclaimed, her blue eyes wide with fear like a trapped rabbit.</p><p>“I'm here, Lucy.  Nothing will harm you.” Jack said in a calm tone, guiding her to sit down on a divan, Mina moving to comfort her.</p><p>“Those eyes. Red eyes. Oh Mina!” Lucy muttered barely coherent, spit escaping her plump lips.</p><p>Her body spasmed and trembled with the aftershocks as if it had been struck by a great bolt of lightening. Her arms and legs seemingly moving as to run away from some invisible force.</p><p>“Shush Lucy, I’m here, I’ve got you, he won’t get you while I’m here.” Mina reassured stroking her hair which stuck to the perspiration on her clammy forehead. </p><p>The Doctor reached for his brown leather bag, getting out a needle and preparing it.</p><p>“What’s that?” Mina asked.</p><p>“Just a little something to help her relax.” He said flicking the needle before injecting it into the crook of Lucy’s elbow.</p><p>Lucy murmured in pain, calmed and slowly slipped off into the uninhibited place between sleep and wakefulness.</p><p>“Let it work. Lucy.” </p><p>“Oh, Jack. Kiss me.” Lucy mumbled her eyes glazed and rolling in her skull.</p><p>Jack rolled his own eyes before pecking her cheek lightly.</p><p>“Let her rest now.” He said standing up from the divan where she sprawled out in her fit.</p><p>“Will she be alright? Surely you must be able to help her.” Mina said not moving from her friend’s side.</p><p>He was a doctor. Certainly modern medicine would be able to save Lucy from that monster.</p><p>“Well, frankly, I'm confounded. I’ve never seen anything like it. When I return to my office, I will search every text book for diagnosis.”</p><p>“Vampirism. That’s your diagnosis.” Agatha said.</p><p>“What?” Jack said, looking at her as if she  had grown a second head. </p><p>“Lucy has been bitten by a vampire, not just any, the greatest, or rather worst of them all, Count Dracula. You saw him at the Gala, yes?”</p><p>“I don’t know what I saw... A well dressed gentleman dancing with you.” Jack said. </p><p>“He is no gentleman, he’s a monster and he killed my Johnny.” Mina said.</p><p>“Do not be blinded by your own eyes, Doctor,  for that is what afflicts Lucy and the only way to cure her is to kill him.”</p><p>“Yes, well pardon me if I have a little more faith in science,” He scoffed.</p><p>“What I recommend for now is rest and plenty of fluids. I shall notify Arthur and then we shall see about further treatment.” </p><p>“You will be wasting time you don’t have.” Agatha said.</p><p>“Anyways...I am running late for work. Good day Miss Murray, Miss Van Helsing.” Dr Seward said dismissively, leaving. </p><p>“You’ll see, Agatha, Jack will save Lucy. It’s surely just like any other illness.” Mina said looking at Lucy’s pale, unconscious face.</p><p>At least in drug induced sleep, she found peace.</p><p>Though, Agatha wished she could have faith in Dr Seward’s medical prowess, it would likely only waste time for he didn’t know or wish to believe what was right in front of him. A heady mixture of arrogant ignorance and fear.<br/>
Hopefully it wouldn’t take the girl’s untimely demise to prove him wrong.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Dear Reader,</p><p>Just a short chapter, couldn’t put it with the next one or it would be too long.</p><p>Hope you enjoyed it nonetheless!</p><p>As always, a kudos and comment are very much appreciated!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Freeing Hunger</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Lucy is lured with waxen wings while her friends try to save her from the sun.<br/>Agatha fights a bloody temptation.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
<em>London<br/>
1897 </em> </p><p>What was freedom?</p><p>Was it be in touch with all of one’s darkest fantasies?<br/>
And to have created a life for oneself where one can experience them?</p><p>Then there was none to be found as she was.<br/>
Restrained and restricted from birth, purely because she was a girl. A woman. Female. The fairer sex. The weaker sex.</p><p>To be a girl again, half savage and hardy, and free; and laughing at injuries, not maddening under them.</p><p>Maybe some women are not meant to be tamed. And try as men might, they will only get clawed.<br/>
Maybe they just need to run free.<br/>
But a free woman was very dangerous creature.</p><p>The grass under her pale feet was damp and squishy like a sponge having soaked up all its nightly drink. It wrapped over her toes, tangling around them as if to plant her to the earth like roots as if she were hapless virginal Daphne.</p><p>Leaves rustled and the wind whistled.<br/>
Singing. It was very frail, almost imperceptible, as though it came out of the air. It came and went fitfully.<br/>
Presently the voice seemed to come quite close to her, so near that it might have been the voice of a Dryad singing to her out of the trees.<br/>
The sound seemed to pierce her very soul, pulling at her strings and making her move along to its otherworldly rythme.</p><p>Dancing over the grass barefoot was a pleasure her new life forbid.<br/>
A girl no longer, new standards were expected.<br/>
Be demur and give way to men in a submissive manner. </p><p>It was a tension inside, the yearning to dance freely and the fear of non-compliance. It wrapped around her throat, squeezing till she could barely gasp.</p><p>Under the moon bright and high, Lucy twirled and spun, her thin night gown flowing around her like delicate gauzy wings. </p><p>This was freedom.<br/>
To feel as light as a feather as she floated across the law with ethereal grace. </p><p>Even if this would be her last taste. The life ahead was all obligation, duty and a deference that never sat well with her soul. </p><p>Then it stopped and there was silence. Nothing, not the crunch of leaf, squelch of the earth or cry of a bird. Utter silence.</p><p>She stood still, her arms hanging loosely at her side, as if on the edge of some great precipice.</p><p>The only announcement of his arrival was a slight drop in the air temperature and the descent of absolute silence. </p><p>Without turning she knew he was there.</p><p>“Good evening, Lucy.” A familiar voice said behind her.</p><p>“Good evening, Count.” She said turning to face him. </p><p>He was in evening dress. All done up as if he were going to the opera, at least it seemed so, it was hard to tell with that great big cape. A little dated in her opinion.</p><p>“Pleasant night, isn’t it?” He said with that same pleasant manner that overlaid his every word. </p><p>“It is,”</p><p>There was no polite smiles for him, he didn’t care either way. He had no expectations for her.</p><p>“Did you miss me?” She asked.</p><p>“No.” He said unclasping his cape and laying it out on the damp grass like a gentleman.</p><p>She plopped down with a giggle, relaxed, no straight backs or caring how her skirt covered her bare legs.</p><p>Pulling her tumbling red hair back, she revealed the mark on her neck to him, his own little tap.</p><p>Unexpectedly his finger alighted on her exposed neck, cold as a cadaver. He ran it from behind her ear to the edge of her night dress.<br/>
She expected to see something in his dark eyes, she was desirable, of that she was painfully aware, yet there nothing, but that same cold distance. And somehow that was even better. </p><p>He only audibly sniffed like a wine connoisseur taking in a fine vintage. Then he withdrew, </p><p>“In a very, very long life, I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone quite like you,” He said.</p><p>“Do you love me?” She asked, more curious than anything else.</p><p>Everyone loved her. She was beautiful, clever and rich. Not one man had ever met  her without falling head over heels with her. Some women too.</p><p>“No.”</p><p>Prettily vapid wasn’t his thing. Sure she had something about her, but it wasn’t enough to warrant an eternity.</p><p>“Will you ever love me?”</p><p>“No.” He repeated with the same indifference.</p><p>“Good. That’s one less thing to worry about.” She smiled. </p><p>“Yes, don’t worry about the vampire sitting next to you, worry about his feelings for you instead.” He chuckled. </p><p>Never had he met someone so nonchalant about the whole thing. She didn’t run screaming like the rest of them.</p><p>“You really don’t care, do you?” </p><p>“Aren’t you even a little scared of me?”</p><p>“Are you afraid of anything?”</p><p>“Even dying?” Dracula asked incredulously.</p><p>Everyone was fearful of something. And mortal as she was, with death right next to her, she had to be at least a little scared.</p><p>“Everybody dies.” She said with a nihilistic smile.</p><p>Why worry about the inevitable?<br/>
And was it not a comfort to know the end already?<br/>
To die and be free, for there was no rules imposed upon the dead.</p><p>“Not everyone,” He reminded.</p><p>Some were cursed to suffer for eternity as their carcasses rotted around them, incasing them in a fleshy prison. </p><p>“Lucy, you’re a very special flavor.”</p><p>She nodded, feeling a frisson of glee, she was closer to eternal life. Or soaring death.</p><p>“What do you want to dream about tonight?”</p><p>“Put me somewhere beautiful. Where no one can see me,” She said.</p><p>Never to leave the confines of her home, he let her see the world in her back garden.</p><p>“Where I don’t have to smile.” She added. </p><p>No more simpering or pretty smiles because that was what was expected of her. She wanted to dance and scream like a madwoman.</p><p>“Of course.” Dracula nodded, his red eyes fixated on her perfect throat, sinking his fangs in, he obliged her wishes.</p><p> </p><p>—————</p><p> </p><p>“Oh Jack, thank God you’re here.” Mina exclaimed as the butler open the door to the young doctor.</p><p>“I came as soon as I could and I brought reinforcements.” He said showing his two companions.</p><p>“Good day, Ma’am.” Quincey said nodding his hat to her.</p><p>“Hello Miss Murray,” Arthur said.</p><p>“Well then let’s see the patient.” He smiled.</p><p>“Of course, this way gentlemen.” Mina said leading them up the stairs to Lucy’s room.</p><p>Pushing open the door, the room was dark, the curtains pulled. </p><p>Mina moved to open the curtains, the dim morning light filling the room.</p><p>The mound of blankets shifted, moaning in pain.</p><p>“Lucy, Arthur, Jack and Quincey have to come see you.” Mina said rushing to her bedside, she gently pulled back the covers from her friend.</p><p>Lucy was ghastly, chalkily pale. The red seemed to have gone even from her lips and gums, and the bones of her face stood out prominently. Her breathing was painful to see or hear.</p><p>“My God.” The three men exclaimed in near unison.</p><p>“No, it is not the work of God.” Agatha said, sitting in the corner of the room by the window. </p><p>Certainly not. He was not God, despite how he claimed and implied. He was nothing but a beast who had ruined a young woman’s life for sheer amusement.</p><p>“And you are?” Arthur asked looking at the strange woman who seemed the only one undisturbed by the bedridden lady.</p><p>“Agatha Van Helsing, Lord Holmwood, we haven’t met, but I have seen you.”</p><p>“She has all the usual physical anemic signs.” Jack said having moved to examine his patient. </p><p>He was gently pulling down her bottom eyelids to examine her inner eyes, which were devoid of any blood.</p><p>“That’s how I found her. In the grass outside, I assumed she had been sleepwalking.” Mina said hovering over Lucy.</p><p>The fright it had given her to find her friend in the early morning, sprawled out on the wet lawn, half frozen to death and utterly unconscious.</p><p>Lucy lay motionless as the Doctor poked and prodded her, and did not seem to have strength to speak.</p><p>“She manifests continued blood loss I noticed after the Gala but it seems to have increased. But I cannot trace the cause.” Jack said.</p><p>“Blood loss? How?” Arthur said looking completely bewildered.</p><p>“Because a vampire has been draining her of it!” Agatha snapped.</p><p>“The mark on her throat. No disease, no trituration, I'm sure the blood loss occurred there. I assume she simply injured herself at the party.” Jack said looking at the strange twisted skin.  </p><p>“That is the mark of a vampire.” Agatha said.</p><p>“Nonsense, vampires are monsters of fairytales.” Jack said.</p><p>“Oh? Where did the blood go? Use your brain. Where did the blood go, tell me.” </p><p>“The bed clothes would be covered in blood.” Mina said, barely a whisper, as she brushed Lucy’s red hair, for she had always found comfort in it as a child.</p><p>The hair came away the root without any effort and a great lot of it at that, Mina pulled away in shock, a clump of scarlet hair hanging from the brush.</p><p>She knew it was true, she had seen the vampire with her own two eyes. Yet if she believed it, then Lucy was damned. So she instead put her faith in modern science.</p><p>“Exactly. You do not let your eyes see nor your ears hear that which you cannot account for.” Agatha said.</p><p>“The only way to save her if to destroy the vampire. Crosses, garlic, holy water and stakes will help.”</p><p>“Sounds like a Goddamn load of witch doctor nonsense to me, Jack” Quincey said.</p><p>“Something just went up there, sucked it out of her, and flew away, I suppose?” Jack said incredulously with a chuckle.</p><p>“That's brilliant. That's absolutely brilliant.  Will the learned doctor kindly tell me what is going on with my Lucy?” Arthur snapped with all the delicacy of an aristocrat.</p><p>“Lucy is suffering from acute anemia, or blood loss. There's no time to be lost, she's dying, she wants blood, and blood she must have. Take off your coat.” Jack said grabbing his medical bag.</p><p>He cleared the side table with a swipe of his arm, sending a lamp and glass crashing to the floor.</p><p>Agatha watched curiously. It was a chaotic mess but she had always been interested by scientific procedures.</p><p>“You've perfected a procedure? I thought blood transfusion was only a theory,” She said.</p><p>“Not that it will help.” She added.</p><p>Not amount of transfused blood would save Lucy’s life, not none that her nails had already began to crumble and chip off.</p><p>“Perfected, no. I've only experimented... Animals, goats, sheep and the odd lunatic. If hemolysis occurs in the blood or the serum, her red blood cells will explode,” Jack said taking out different instruments and setting everything up with practiced precision. He set up a flask with a metal lid that fed inti two clear tubes. </p><p>“Here, take this tube.” He said handing it to her while he placed a small needle into the vein in the crook of Lucy’s arm. </p><p>The scent of blood seeped out of the minute puncture, floating straight up into her nostrils. Her fangs poked her bottom lip.<br/>
Not only would the blood transfusion do nothing, they were awakening something that they wouldn’t even be able to deal with.</p><p>She dropped the plastic tube and darted out of the room with inhumane speed, to save them from herself. </p><p>“What’s wrong with her?” Quincey asked.</p><p>“She’s seen a lot, the sight of blood is probably too much.” Mina said.</p><p>“Yes, you should leave to room too, this is likely too much for your delicate senses.”</p><p>“I’m fine, Mr Morris.” Mina said dismissively. </p><p>She would stay by Lucy’s side through it all, not even the Devil could pry her away.</p><p>“Good God.” Arthur said under his breath.</p><p>“Roll up your sleeve, Arthur.” Jack said.</p><p>“Oh, God.” Arthur muttered as he pulled off his fine wool coat and rolled up his white shirt holding out his arm.</p><p>Jack tied a tourniquet tightly around his upper arm. </p><p>“This may hurt a little, Art.” He said before inserting a needle into a vein to which Arthur winced in pain, settling himself in the chair at her bedside.</p><p>The red life giving liquid flowed out through the tube into the glass flask, dripping in at first that flowing freely, eventually reaching the other tube and flowing up into Lucy’s arm.</p><p>“It’ll be your turn next, Quince.” Jack said to looking to the Texan. </p><p>“Y-yes...Right away...I-I would be...” Quincey said stuttering before wobbling on his feet and then crashing to the floor with a thump.</p><p>“Mr Morris? Mr Morris? Are you alright?” Mina said kneeling down and patting his cheek, his jaw lulling.</p><p>“Don’t worry about him, he just has a weak stomach,” Jack said. </p><p>“I will give in his place.” </p><p>“No, let me, I will do it.” Mina said rolling up her sleeve.</p><p>“Are you certain? It will hurt.” Jack asked. </p><p>“My life is hers. I would give my last drop of blood to save her.” Mina said with conviction. </p><p>She would not let her die. Lucy couldn’t leave her all alone in this world, not after Johnny had. She wouldn’t survive it.</p><p>“Your last drop? That won’t be necessary, Arthur’s should be enough, just hold her hand for now.” Jack said with a reassuring smile. </p><p> </p><p>————</p><p> </p><p>Even from her room, she could smell it, like the scent of a hot breakfast on Sunday morning. It lured her, called to her. Like a siren. And she was utterly helpless to deny it.</p><p>Agatha sat on her bed, rocking herself, doing anything to distract herself from the smell of blood wafting down the halls.</p><p>She had barred the door with armoire, taking no strength to mov the hulking thing. It would not be enough to keep her in.</p><p>The belly was an ungrateful wretch, it never remembered past favors, it always wanted more tomorrow. It betrayed her, made her no more than a ravening beast. </p><p>The bitter truth that came too late and the ignorance that was the cause of such unhappiness and sinfulness.<br/>
Denying herself had only made the hunger inside her worse. Her foolish vanity had kept her from believing that she too was nothing but a glutton. </p><p>Who was she to condemn the wolf for killing the lamb when it only wished to feed its nature?</p><p>But they were not lambs, and she was not a wolf. </p><p>So instead, she ran, like a coward, unable to control her own most base need. </p><p>Down the stairs and out the door, not bothering to even grab her hat, gloves or coat. What did it matter? It wasn’t as if she could catch a chill.</p><p>Out into the cloudy, busy London streets she went. Lost in a clouded haze of bloodlust.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Bloodlust</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Running out into the busy London streets maybe wasn’t the smartest move on Agatha’s part.</p><p>Will she find sanctuary in the past or will she accept her present?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
 <em>London<br/>
1897 </em></p><p>Hunger.</p><p>All she felt was all-consuming hunger.</p><p>Agatha had never been so hungry in her life. O, she’d been hungry plenty of times in her poor home where there was never enough food to go around. The stomach growls were nothing new. But this was different.</p><p>It was silent.<br/>
Past the growling point. She felt a sinking emptiness, but strangely didn’t feel exactly hungry.<br/>
A weight now inhabited her chest. Like a lock in her throat, making it hard to breathe. A little less air got through with each wave of hunger, and that which did, nauseously burned as if she were drowning, again. </p><p>Her stomach was slowly digesting itself until it would be filled only by horrid emptiness, as if a part of her had disappeared into the ether. </p><p>A part of her was indeed gone. Her humanity.</p><p>Sure, she still had all the characteristics of a human being; blood, flesh, skin, hair.<br/>
But not a single, clear, identifiable emotion, except for hunger and rage. Something horrible was happening inside of her and it was all because of him.</p><p>The sanguine starvation which she had bottled up for so long had finally overflown.<br/>
She felt lethal, on the verge of frenzy. Rabid.<br/>
She had to get out of that cursed house before it was to late.</p><p>Stepping out on to the street Agatha let her feet take her away.<br/>
But as she passed a finely dressed lady, who raised her nose derisively, she was hit by a sweet savory aroma that wafted through the cool winter air. Like sweet honey rolls.<br/>
Her stomach clenched with hunger as she realized her mistake. </p><p>The busy streets had become a buffet of delights; the young man carrying crates had become a fine cut of steak, blue and still mooing; the prim parasol carrying ladies, tompouces and the children in tow, in their frilly creme clothes, sugar dusted oliebolen to pop in her mouth. </p><p>Smell had taken over as Agatha’s primary sense. She no longer cared what people looked like, it was their aroma that counted.<br/>
From across the street she could detect the sugar levels of a person's blood and the subtle flavor hues unknown to science and the medical minds.<br/>
Her nose dragged her after them, trailing the track left behind.</p><p>She could almost imagine the warm flesh tearing beneath her teeth, dripping with ruby-colored liquid. She was salivating at the thought.</p><p>All she would have to do was lead them to the closest place she could dine undisturbed.</p><p>No. She was better than that. If she did, she would be no better than Dracula. She would not let him be victorious.<br/>
She focused on the other smells in the air, like the musty smell of the horse manure, the earthy smell of damp ground or the slaty tang of the river. </p><p>Staying to the shaded parts of the street, for the grey light only made her feel worse, as if it was a great big spotlight, a lighthouse alerting passerby’s to the danger before them, her instincts steered, for she could not concentrate on such trivial things as direction when there was an incessant thrum of lives in her head.</p><p>She wandered aimlessly through the crowded streets in the midst of the whirl and rush of humanity. Amongst them yet not of them. </p><p>An intimate aroma drew her from her reverie, like hands threaded with ghostly wisps drawing her gently into a life that now felt like a dream.<br/>
These wisps were clearly recognizable as scraps of odors. At first they merely floated in thin threads past Agatha’s nose, but then they grew thicker, more cloudlike.<br/>
It was a scent as old as the world. It was a hundred aromas of a thousand places. It was the spice of frankincense and myrrh. It was the musk of old places. It was the muscular rot of damp. It was the firmness of oak.</p><p>Who knew how long she walked for, time no longer meant much to her.<br/>
Her spirit thirsted for the living water so it had lead her to where her soul once found nourishment. A church.</p><p>From the corner of the street, it rose in coursed ragstone with ashlar dressings under a slate roof double pitched over the nave and aisles, and dominated by a robust heavily buttressed four-stage tower.<br/>
Carved gargoyles stood as sentinels on the tympanum, protecting it from all Evil.</p><p>An asylum.</p><p>Pushing open the  door, Agatha stepped foot in a church for the first time since her Fall.</p><p>She didn’t burst into hellfire upon entering consecrated ground, nor did she feel pushed out or unwelcome. Only overcome with tranquility.</p><p>Sunlight shone in multicolored hues through the stained-glass window. It warmed the dark brown wood of the pews lining either side of aisle before her, and dust motes danced in the sweep of light.</p><p>A scan with heightened senses revealed no one near, which she was glad of, her ile of calm in a torrent of temptation </p><p>Genuflecting before the altar, </p><p>”In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.” She whispered crossing herself.</p><p>The intricate crucifix above and the colorful iconography were a welcome home.</p><p>Agatha slipped into a pew, closing her eyes.</p><p>Despite the familiarity, she had never been one to pray much. Sure, she attended all services, not that she had much a choice, but she had never really gotten into the whole routine, always managing to sneak a book in with her.<br/>
Her mind had always been more attracted to worldly things than to prayer. Her lips repeated the prayer mechanically like a phonograph record, but her mind wandered to other places. </p><p>And after she had been through, with not even one burning bush to guide her, her faith was at an all time low.</p><p>Perhaps this was her punishment for her lack of prayer, to atone for her sins she had to starve like Jesus had.<br/>
To practice inedia prodigiosa like so many of her sisters had before. Starve. Die. Be venerated. </p><p>But why be venerated for her suffering when she was already godlike?</p><p>Blasphemous idea yet she could surely fulfill the requirements. A few miracles, walking on water couldn’t be that difficult.<br/>
And resurrection.<br/>
All sounded awfully feasible in her current state.</p><p>Was it not during such times that transubstantiation of the bread and wine had taken place?</p><p>Then she had already consumed blood, sacramental blood present in the Eucharist or Lord's Supper. </p><p>The precious blood which flowed from the holy wounds of God’s own lamb, as though it were the Fountain of Life, was it really so wrong to drink from it? To sate her base need?</p><p>Or was she simply being tempting like Christ in the desert? The Devil tricking her with false holiness.</p><p>Either way, she was starving, her resolve being slowly eaten away and if she didn’t sort it out, the first person she met would be torn to pieces.</p><p>It was quiet, nearly too quiet. Before it brought her peace, now it felt like it was crushing her. There was something lurking in the shadows. An evil no one could see. A monster that tormented her. It sought out the weak and made itself a home inside of their heads.<br/>
Inside her head. </p><p>She could feel it, raging inside of her. Just under the surface. Just loud enough for her to hear, but there was a door in between them. She had locked it in a room, tried to keep it far away from her. But it was still there.</p><p>It was the wickedness he spoke of. That black and hideous thing that burned like brimstone in her chest filling her lungs with smoke.<br/>
She couldn’t breath.<br/>
Her heart beat rapidly as she gasped.<br/>
Sweat beaded on her frozen skin.<br/>
Her vision swirled. </p><p>A quiet but pointed cough snapped her out of it.<br/>
Gasping for air she did not need, a calm hand on her shoulder grounding her, she was surprised to find herself in a darkening room, the earlier bright daylight now fading giving a gentle warm glow to the room.</p><p>Glancing up she was surprised to see an elderly man in front of her.<br/>
He was tall and thin as a whip, with snowy hair, a curled mustache and goatee with bushy black eyebrows and equally dark cassock with a Collarino. </p><p>“I am sorry for disturbing your prayers, My child, but it is late and you should be heading home now,” The man explained, with a thick accent, clearly picking up on the shift of panic on her face.</p><p>“You are clearly struggling with something, you have been asking god for his guidance...” </p><p>“In my experience, he doesn’t really help in situations like these.” Agatha said with a sardonic grin.</p><p>“Maybe it would help to talk your troubles through with someone who could provide more direct guidance? I am Father Le Fanu, this is Saint Mary of the Angels Church.” The Father said indicating.</p><p>“Saint Mary’s?” Agatha said, her eyes glazing a little. </p><p>Just like her covent. A pang of grief hit her. She suspected, however, that she wasn't homesick for anything she would find when she returned for nothing was left. The longing was instead, for what she wouldn't find, the past and all the people and places there were lost to her.</p><p>“I would like to take Confession... I need to.” She said nodding resolutely as she stood.</p><p>“Of course.” Father Le Fanu said seemingly sensing the need, leading her over to the confessional box.</p><p>Pushing back the heavy red curtain, Agatha stepped into the booth, kneeling down before the wood lattice screen and crossing herself. </p><p>“Bless me Father for I have sinned. It has been...Too many days since my last confession,” She said frowning.</p><p>Had it really been that long? She had admittedly been a little preoccupied recently.</p><p>“I have...” She began.</p><p>Words flew from her mouth that she never thought she'd even think, let alone say out loud. 
It was a long list, most of them capital sins. From a nun to a sinner. She remembered how her sisters used to worry about taking a little too much bread and honey, rushing off to confess their gluttony.</p><p>“—This is all I can remember. I am sorry for these and all my sins.”</p><p>Confession was good for the soul, they say. She imagined this is true. But her sins were too convoluted. And from the little she understood, too damning. Despite how hard he tried to hide it, she could hear the priests little gasps of horror.</p><p>She blamed no one for succumbing to temptation. No one planted these temptations in her, they took root on their own.</p><p>“Pray, My Child, pray to our Lord day and night and stay on the righteous path. Such devils cannot tempt when you are with the Almighty.” He said.</p><p>She rolled her eyes at her assigned penance. As if praying had ever helped her. And it was rather lax for all her transgressions.<br/>
Her own vow had been fortunately forgotten. For not only our actions, but also our omissions, become our destiny, and that was no longer as a nun.</p><p>Perhaps Prayer was a confession of one's own unworthiness and weakness. An admission that nothing else could be done.<br/>
Well that wouldn’t do, Agatha was ready to give up just yet.</p><p>Now it was her turn again, like a back and forth game, the mundane ritual of it all. </p><p>“My God, I am sorry for my sins with all my heart. In choosing to do wrong and failing to do good, I have sinned against you whom I should love above all things.<br/>
I firmly intend, with your help, to do penance, to sin no more, and to avoid whatever leads me to sin.Our Savior Jesus Christ suffered and died for us.<br/>
In his name, my God, have mercy.” She said monotonously, not at all contrite.</p><p>How would it help her? Confessing her supposed wrongs?<br/>
All could be absolved, even the most foul of people, even Dracula. </p><p>“God the Father of mercies,” The Father said beginning the prayer of Absolution.</p><p>The smell of cigars and whiskey, spicy and<br/>
bitter wafted over. She wondered what it would taste like? Did clerics taste any different? Maybe of dry bland wafers and cheap wine.</p><p>“—Through the death and resurrection of his Son has reconciled the world to himself and sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins...”</p><p>It would be so easy to kill the priest, for there wasn’t a sinner in the building bar herself.</p><p>“—Through the ministry of the Church may God give you pardon and peace, and I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit...”</p><p>All she would have to do was walk around to his side of the Confessional. Or she could tear him through the flimsy screen.<br/>
He would surely understand her need, be compassionate and sacrifice himself to satiate her. </p><p>“—Amen.” He concluded. </p><p>And then she would have herself a feast.<br/>
Spicy, bitter holy water pouring down her throat. She licked her lips, fangs bared. </p><p>God have mercy on her soul. </p><p>“Amen.” She echoed blessing herself.</p><p> </p><p>————</p><p> </p><p>Back again to the pristine white townhouse, the butler welcoming her back. She wiped her mouth, heading up the stairs. </p><p>Her Confession had lifted the weight off of her shoulders, she felt as light as a feather, as she could float off into clouds at a moment’s notice. </p><p>She didn’t bother seeing Mina, the poor thing was probably tired anyways. It had certainly been a trying day. And it was late, the sun having already taken its evening bow. </p><p>Down the hall of wallpaper blue, into the room, she picked up the glass. The lid was turned and turned until it tumbled to the floor, bouncing on the carpet and scampering to hide underneath the bed. The stained tubes hung flaccid and dripping. </p><p>Dracula loved her wickedness then he would love her now when she was only that. </p><p>Agatha tilted the glass jar back, raising her head to it like a babe to a wolf. </p><p>The smallest lapse in emotion left her spinning, overcome. </p><p>She guzzled on it like a bottle, slurping and sucking. The viscous liquid like mother’s milk. A few chunks here and there.<br/>
Some escaped her maw, trickling down her chin. </p><p>One would think it was berserk savagery that neither knew nor cared what its target was, and so it was when it struck without warning. Instead it was as cold as it was hot, as rational as it was lethal. To embrace it was to embrace a splendor, a glory, a denial of all restraint but not of reason. It was pure, elemental purpose, unencumbered by compassion or horror or pity, yet it was far more than mere frenzy.</p><p>Agatha felt free, as free as bird. She slide down the wall to sit on her bottom. </p><p>The blood was so good. So warm and satisfying. She licked and sucked, drinking it in until she was normal again. But as she returned to herself, her anger mounted. </p><p>What had she done?<br/>
She had given in.</p><p>And yet she continued to lick at the transfusion flask till every last drop was gone, digging her fingers in to scoop up the clumpy clots, bringing them to her lips in veneration.</p><p>Her humanity felt like a fever dream, as if her bones were but the bower of a horned, hungry thing. </p><p>Then there was singing. Or what a drunkard could call it.<br/>
A wailing melody like the cries of the damned souls, singing out to here now that she was so close to Hell.</p><p>Was this the end?</p><p>Had her momentary weakness purchased her a one way ticket South?</p><p>Something scrapped at the window pane.
Was it a scythe scratching at the glass? Was it the Angel of Death come to drag her home? </p><p>Grinning crooked teeth met her.<br/>
No, it was worse than that.</p><p>Agatha wished it had been Azrael, for at least she could expect a little respect from one of God’s envoys.<br/>
The Count on the other hand, had caught her redhanded. He could gloat at her and goad her with his apparent victory which was a decidedly worse fate.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Dear Reader,</p><p>Hope you enjoyed this Agatha centered chapter!<br/>The food mentioned are Dutch desserts.<br/>The Church is inspired by St Mary of Angels Church in London, Westminster.<br/>And the Confession part is from what I have read online, so forgive me if I have made any errors. </p><p>Also who can spot my little easter egg?</p><p>As per usual please do leave a kudos and comment as I do so love to hear from you be it theories, emotions or recommendations!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Learn From The Master</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Finding Agatha in a rather sticky situation, Dracula takes it upon himself to teach her to be a vampire.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
<em>London<br/>
1897 </em> </p><p>Would God not save her?<br/>
Not for the first time, she was cornered by the Count, though this time she feared not his bite but his bark.</p><p>For surely he would take pleasure in her downfall, and she would also surely die of sheer embarrassment. </p><p>If the Almighty could simply intervene and save her from her plight, she would take a vow of silence and move to a monastery and worship Him for the rest of her eternal undead days.</p><p>It was also very possible that Dracula was thinking the same thing as he slipped in through the window, because he was not talking either, which was rather strange for him. </p><p>Not that she could meet his eyes on account of how embarrassment blinded her.</p><p>An awkward cough on his part broke the uncomfortable silence.</p><p>“Well Good evening, Agatha, I didn’t expect to find you here.” He said grinning.</p><p>“What...” She began but the voice that left her mouth was not her own cut her short. A distinctive English twang.<br/>
She spluttered as if trying to rid of her throat of a clump of phlegm, which seemed to do the trick.</p><p>“What do you want?” She snapped finally, raising her eyes to glare at him briefly</p><p>He was all dressed up in evening wear or funeral wear, pristine as ever. The picture of a refined gentleman in total opposition with the monstrous chaos that she was. Blood likely smeared everywhere, strands of loose hair caught in the onslaught of her manic feast.<br/>
O how the tables had turned.</p><p>“Just to drop of some gifts and visit a friend...You know, the usual,” He shrugged.</p><p>“But don’t mind me, you’re busy.” He said standing before her.</p><p>The black leather of his shoes was exceptionally shiny, not a single speck of dirt. How did he manage such a feat in the filthy streets? Maybe he took a carriage or moved with his cloud of bats?</p><p>He was surely smug as ever, grinning at her disheveled appearance.<br/>
Who was but a beast now?</p><p>Life should really come with a trapdoor. Just a little exit hatch one could disappear through when one had utterly and completely mortified oneself.</p><p>Prying the empty, stained flask from her before she could shamefully lick it clean, he audibly inhaled. </p><p>“Subpar vintage...two people... not even fresh. You really should be more careful with your diet.” He chastised</p><p>Her cheeks burned. Or at least they felt like they did, could they still?<br/>
But life did not come with a trapdoor.</p><p>Mina and Mr Holmwood. The taste of them lingered on her tongue. She could sense all of them, all their feelings and memories as though they were nothing but flavors, a little sweet, salty, sour and bitter. It made her want to be sick. To purge herself of thoughts that weren’t her own. So much grief, pain and worry. About Mr Harker and now Lucy and Arthur’s father.</p><p>“Agatha?” </p><p>“Yes?” She mumbled her fangs getting in the way. </p><p>“Look at me.” </p><p>She shook her head defiantly. Why had she left her hair up? No brown curtain to hide behind.<br/>
He only wanted the see the extent of the mess, or the wicked creature she had become. </p><p>“Please, it isn’t that much to ask.” He sighed. </p><p>No it wasn’t and what difference did it make?</p><p>Looking up at him, she found that he was not looking pleased as pie, rather he looked, and perhaps she was imagining it, a little understanding in those scarlet eyes.</p><p>Was the merciless brute capable of empathy?</p><p>“There you are... And what a messy little eater you are.” He said with a chuckle that showed the owner had done a fair share of gloating in his time, and had the basics down pat yet now refrained from doing so.</p><p>From his coat pocket he pulled one his white handkerchiefs, monogrammed and the purest white like fresh snow.<br/>
How on earth did he keep them so clean?</p><p>Bringing it to her chin, Dracula gently wiped away the dribbled blood. From her chin and then her mouth, the contours of her delicate lips pressing against his fingers through the cotton.<br/>
He would much rather lick the stickiness off of her. Unfortunately she wound likely slap him into the next century it he even tried. </p><p>Agatha sat watching him as he cleaned her face, like some demonic mother. At least he wasn’t dabbing her face with a spit dampened cloth. </p><p>His eyes spoke of hunger yet he remained perfectly calm, so focused on his task. On her. It sent a not so unpleasant shiver down her spine. </p><p>Perhaps she was just overly sensitive to his actions, after all, he was a man before he was a monster, and she did feel a little wild. </p><p>The ivory points of his fangs were on the verge of peaking past his fleshy lips, mirrors of her own. What would they feel like against her mouth? Would they nip and bite? A bloody mockery of affection?</p><p>Pulling away, he held her face to admire his handiwork.<br/>
His Bride. His ideal creation. His near equal. Blushing cheeks and lips, colored by her meal, and she was all the more stunning for it though she did deserve better.</p><p>“It’s the best I can do but at least you don’t look like such a beast anymore, not that I mind,” He smirked tucking the tainted tissue into his coat.</p><p>“Be glad that I cannot tease you like you did me.” He chuckled offering her his hand. </p><p>Rolling her eyes, she swatted his proffered hand away, she did not need his help, and pulled herself to her feet.</p><p>Her legs felt firmer than before, none of the normal drudgery of the late hour and lack of sleep weighing down her muscles.</p><p>“You’ll feel even better after some proper food.” He said moving back around the bed where lay the living corpse that used to be Lucy.</p><p>“No. I won’t do it.” She said. </p><p>No matter how hunger she was, still caught up in bloodlust, she would not feed on her, whatever Lucy Westenra was, a friend, maybe.<br/>
Either way she would not do it.</p><p>“Do what? Really Agatha, you think I would feed on a dying girl,” He chuckled. </p><p>“A pig like you will eat anything.” She said with a faintest smile. </p><p>“You mean like you?” He retorted grinning.</p><p>Agatha turned her head bashfully. He was right, wasn’t he? They were the same. Ravenous beasts who descended into frenzy at the smallest hint of blood.<br/>
And was he, now, not far kinder than she? Not taunting or teasing or insulting.</p><p>“Are you coming?” He asked looking at her before climbing out onto the windowsill. </p><p>“What?” She said furrowing her brows. </p><p>“I asked are you coming with me.”</p><p>“I can’t.” </p><p>“You can. Trust me. I want to show you something.” He said with a reassuring smile then disappearing from the window.</p><p>Her eyes flashed with doubt as she went to the window, looking down at the the two story drop and at the empty street.<br/>
Yet he was nowhere to be seen.</p><p>“Up here.” He said.</p><p>Craning her neck, she looked up to see him clinging to the wall. Yet the wall was relatively smooth, bricks carefully laid, what was he holding onto? How on God’s earth was he staying up there so still?</p><p>“I can’t get up there.” She said.</p><p>Surely she would fall to the ground and leave a great mess. Though maybe that would be preferable to her current circumstances. </p><p>“Of course you can. If I can, you can. You just have to trust yourself.” </p><p>It had to be some kind of trick. Getting rid of her so he could run amuck through England. However, as much as she loathed it, she was a vampire just like him, so logically she could do anything he could, even if it defied all logic.</p><p>Agatha, ever confident and brave, wouldn’t let the moment pass, this was, after all, her one chance to learn about vampires from the source itself, held onto the window frame and hosted herself out onto the narrow ledge. </p><p>Dracula watched as she came into view, pleasantly surprised that she trusted his word. </p><p>“That’s it, now stand up and place your hands on the wall.” He said.</p><p>Following his instructions, she carefully rose to stand on the ledge and placed her hands on the wall.</p><p>“Now climb, you can do it.”</p><p>And so she did. Reaching higher, she began to move towards him, scaling the wall like a overgrown lizard, her claws catching onto the imperceptible imperfections and crevices of the bricks giving her purchase as she climbed.</p><p>Not bothering waiting for her now that she could manage on her own, Dracula crawled up the rest of the wall up onto the flat roof with supernatural ease. </p><p>The black shape of the Count’s cape disappearing from view, Agatha tried to catch up, moving quickly up the wall and onto the roof where he sat waiting for her patiently.</p><p>Yet once she stood on the roof, he was off like a shot, darting off towards the adjoining roof. </p><p>“Come on, Agatha, keep up.” He said with a laugh.</p><p>Shaking her head she ran after him.</p><p>Faster and faster, eventually she was on his heels, his cape flapping in front of her, like a great pair of woolen wings.<br/>
At the speed she was going, one would at least expect to sweat and pant yet she remained perfectly cool as if she was but taking a peaceful nightly stroll. </p><p>There was a bright full moon, with heavy black, driving clouds, which threw the whole scene into a fleeting diorama of light and shade as they sailed across. For a moment or two they would be in darkness and then clouds would float past letting the moon cast their shadows into giants who ran soundlessly beside them.</p><p>Dracula leaped and bounded over any obstacle before him with seamless grace,  which pushed her to copy as to not be outdone as she chased after him. </p><p>Agatha couldn’t help but let a bubbly laugh escape her lips at the rush of it all. Running freely across the rooftops, the breeze pulling her hair away from the strict confines of her updo.<br/>
There was something primeval about it, like wild animals, chasing after something already in movement, like a dog to a ball. The thrill of the chase flooding her system with adrenaline.<br/>
It seemed ironic that it was in her undead state that she had never felt more alive.</p><p>Letting out his own loud laugh, approaching the end of the block, the chasm where the road passed before the rooftop of the next building, Dracula didn’t slow, instead sped up, racing towards with trusting suicidal determination. </p><p>Slowing, Agatha watched in horror. Did he knew something she didn’t? Could they fly? Defy gravity? </p><p>His foot reached the edge and he pushed off with great force, leaping into the void.</p><p>She gasped for surely he was going to fall, had he simply overestimated his own capabilities? Maybe, he was rather proud and stubborn after all. Halting at the edge she watched as he seemingly hovered in midair. </p><p>For a moment there was nothing but empty air beneath him and he felt delightfully freed. It was short lived, his boot connected with the other roof and he was once again grounded.<br/>
Turning back to her, he shot a cocky grin.</p><p>“Your turn.” He said. </p><p>He had to be joking, she wouldn’t make it, she hadn’t had his practice and it had be nearing ten meters to the other side.</p><p>“Don’t look at me like that, you’ll make it, I did, didn’t I?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Well then, off you go.” </p><p>All of her sense must have finally left her as she paced back to allow herself some run-up.</p><p>Her legs moved on their own.</p><p>This was It, this is the last act of Agatha Van Helsing. After having faced a vampire, a ship exploding, she would ultimately meet her end by stupidly trusting the former vampire and leaping to her own death. </p><p>Gaining speed, reaching the end of the road, she had to force her eyes to remain open as she flung herself out into the void. A true leap of faith.</p><p>Solid ground. She made it.</p><p>“See? I told you could do it.” Dracula grinned.</p><p>She smiled back, no, her whole body was moving back, teetering, her heels having not quite made it over the edge causing her lose her balance.<br/>
Her arms spun wildly as she could flap her way to sturdier ground.<br/>
He had spoken too soon, she was already tumbling backwards with a squawk.</p><p>Strong, steading arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her back onto safety, her feet now firmly on the roof.</p><p>“I’ve got you.” He said holding her.</p><p>Agatha looked at him, up to be exact for he was a good bit taller than her. </p><p>“So you do.” She said softly. </p><p>His arms held her tightly to his chest, an echo of the Gala, without the prying eyes.<br/>
Here they were free, no expectations or judgement. It was heady sensation after near death experience.</p><p>His mouth was unnervingly serene, not pulled in its normal grin, and his eyes were searching, for what she didn’t know.</p><p>“Right, well you didn’t do too badly.” He said letting her go and stepping back a little, out of her personal space. </p><p>“For my first try.” She added with grin still buzzing with the semi-success of her jump.</p><p>“Yes, I’ll make a vampire out of you yet.” </p><p>“How do we do it? What exactly grants us our abilities?” She asked curiously.</p><p>Was it God or the Devil who bestowed these powers upon them? For the former had created all but were they not also hellish creatures?<br/>
Science could certainly not explain it. They had just defied several laws of human biology and physics.</p><p>Though how would he know? He feared the cross and sun yet she had felt no different before both.</p><p>“Were you the first, or did someone make you? Because I couldn’t find any information of any vampire older than you.” </p><p>By all accounts he was the oldest of their kind on record, and in truth because she had never met or seen any concrete of ant others.</p><p>“Dracula?” She said when he didn’t reply, instead had moved to the edge, looking down at something with the air of a hunting dog, his eyes flitting and his ears perked, well if they could. </p><p>“Vlad?” </p><p>“Come here, your next lesson is about to start.” He said cryptically.</p><p>She sighed coming to stand next to him, now seeing what he had caught his attention through the shadows.</p><p>On the street below two men were walking, likely making their way home at such a late hour.<br/>
By the look of their clothes, they were neither poor nor rich, businessmen perhaps, walking home after working late in their offices.</p><p>Knowing where this was going, she turned to her counterpart to protest, too late, as he dropped down silently behind the men, his cape encompassing him like a parachute allowing to glide to the ground.</p><p>He advanced on them, his physique hardly discernible in the shadowy twilight of the alley. With each slow movement that belied the speed he was capable of, he approached them stealthily.</p><p>And then he pounced like a spring unloaded, grabbing one man by the neck, sinking his fangs into him while the other, stunned by the sudden attack scurried down the street, tripping on fear in an awkward attempt at running for his life.</p><p>Agatha couldn’t risk the other man alerting someone to them, as anyone who came to the rescue was likely to end up a discarded sponge squeezed dry of all their life giving liquid.<br/>
So she trusted once again in the theory that anything he could, she could do, and stepped off the roof, dropping down onto the street with far more noise than the Count, right in front of the escapee.</p><p>In an echo of what Dracula had done, she grabbed him by the meaty neck, her claws digging into his flesh and then her fangs, as she backed him up, pining him against the wall. </p><p>As the flesh tore, hot crimson liquid trickled free from the barrier and seeped away from the wound into her awaiting maw.<br/>
Every tongue has low standards during starvation.<br/>
It was thick and flowing, none of those awful clots so unpleasant on her tongue, no, this was like honey or rather gravy as he held a particularly meatiness about him, like a pork roast. Fatty and salty.<br/>
She gulped it down greedily, feeling warmth returning to her cheeks, which meant the winter now nipped at her skin.</p><p>Halfway through draining him, the aftertaste reared its ugly head. She could taste the adrenalized fear, bitter, making her reel, and then there was sweetness, the thoughts of a warm fire, a comfy chair and a hot meal prepared by his wife.<br/>
O God.<br/>
Faces with rosy cheeks and curly locks of golden hair. Children.<br/>
The man she was feasting on had a family.</p><p>Backing away, he crumpled to the ground like rag doll, and just as dead. </p><p>What had she done?</p><p>Spitting out blood horrified. She needs to get it out of her. Get those sweet little faces out of her head. But it doesn’t help, no matter how much she retched, they wouldn’t leave her.</p><p>That was what came of hungering for something, one forgets to check if it’s rotten before one gobbles it down.”</p><p>A comforting hand rubbed her back as she tried to empty her stomach contents.</p><p>“Agatha? What’s wrong?” Dracula asked.</p><p>“That man...children...” She stuttered gasping for her air she didn’t need.</p><p>“Yes, he’s mortal, they tend to have those. As do all animals, has it ever bothered you to know that your roast had a family all of its own?” He said calmly.</p><p>Of course not. Yet he was right, in a twisted way. Who was to say that Man deserved her tears when pigs, cows, chickens and whatnot, did not?</p><p>“I killed him...” She mumbled numbly.</p><p>“It’s okay, nothing to get yourself into such a state over.” He said reassuringly as he pulled her against him. </p><p>“He has a family and I killed him.” She said her eyes beginning to well with horrible realization as she sunk into his broad chest, the lack of heartbeat strange but the borrowed warmth reassuring. </p><p>“I know it’s hard but you didn’t know, you can’t blame yourself for it.” He said wrapping his cape around her.</p><p>“But I killed him.” She said.</p><p>The warm wooly fabric was a welcome comfort, she snuggled in against him, the solid strength grounding her.</p><p>The only person to blame was herself. She was a killer. And it had taken anything, no thought or apprehension. And the worst part was that she enjoyed it, the murderous rush and the taste of his blood on her tongue.</p><p>“From here on," Dracula said, his voice calm and steady as he explained inescapable truths.</p><p>“You will have to decide what kind of vampire you will be. Not all meals will come to you so easily, ignorant and seeking to do you harm. What will you do if your prey invites you inside, offers you a place at the table? What will you do if they flee, or cower down, begging you not to hurt them?” He said gently stroking her mussed hair.</p><p>Humans were too full of emotions thats she could understand unlike those of the farm animals she chowed down on. But what choice did she have? If she did not feed then she would starve. </p><p>“How you stalk your prey is something you must come to terms with, or you will quickly drive yourself mad. And once you cross that threshold, there is no coming back from it,” </p><p>And it was a horrid fate he had seen happen many a time to his experiments. Descending into madness, losing all semblance of humanity, simply because they had to kill to survive. Was that not the fate of all life? The very circle of life.<br/>
They became withered ravening beasts who were eventually sealed up in wooden boxes.</p><p>Some were just not cut out from this life, or rather death.</p><p>“And I refuse to lose you to that.” He said resolutely. </p><p>Never. He would make sure that she remained as she was now, in hold of all her own mind and not begging for death.</p><p>“No.” She mumbled, titling her head back from its resting place on his chest to look at him.</p><p>His mouth was bloody, smeared in such a way that it resembled a garish smile. </p><p>“What?” </p><p>“No. I refuse to do any of that. I’m not a monster.” She said pushing him away as she pulled away.</p><p>“Be reasonable, if you don’t do that you’ll starve.” </p><p>“So be it.” She shrugged impetuously. </p><p>“I won’t allow it.” He said scowling at her. </p><p>“It’s not up to you to allow,” </p><p>Who did he think he was? She did not his permission. And it wasn’t as if she would let herself starve, she just find a better, more moral, way to feed herself.</p><p>“I think it was about time I left, anyways, Count.” She said turning to go. </p><p>“Leave where? You think they’ll welcome you back? Do they even know what you are?”</p><p>Her lack of answers as she walked off down the street was reply enough.</p><p>“They’ll never understand you like I do. I know you, I’ve drank your blood and you’ve drank mine...” He said trailing after her.</p><p>“What?” She whipped around halting in her tracks.</p><p>“Oh you didn’t know?” He said with a grin.</p><p>“I slipped some of my blood into the wine on the Demeter...”</p><p>“You did what?” Agatha exclaimed in disgust.</p><p>“Nothing to worry about, see I am a connoisseur in the matter of blood. Blood is lives, blood is testimony. The testimony of everyone I’ve ever destroyed flows in my veins and now it also flows in yours,” </p><p>She knew she should never have trusted his offering of food. Like Circe, he had transformed her into a beast.</p><p>“You’re flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood. Everything is in the blood, we are the same now.”</p><p>Everything was in the blood. No wonder she could do anything he could, she had all of his memories now. That explained those strange dreams.</p><p>“Is that why Mr Harker died and Lucy is dying?”</p><p>While she remained the same, or improved even. They withered and began to rot while they were still alive because they had not been given his blood. </p><p>“They’re all dying, Agatha, that’s what mortals do...Ripeness is the first moment of decay and Sweet is the promise of corruption,” He said waxing on as if he knew some deeper meaning to existence.</p><p>“But maybe or maybe you’re just better than them. Stronger. It’s survival of fittest, isn’t it?” He shrugged.</p><p>No. They were more than just mere beasts unlike him. Such ideas were lost when humans first became civilized.</p><p>“You’re like me, together we could do whatever we wanted...We could conquer all the world or just England, or we could run off back to the continent, see everything there is to see for the rest of time,” He said.</p><p>“All you have to do is come with me and you could have it all. You could know all and see all. After all that time spent in that  dingy basement, don’t you want to finally be free?” </p><p>Was that not what she had always wanted?<br/>
To satisfy her constantly growing curiosity.<br/>
And she had forever to travel and learn, and without the time consuming studying. All it would take was a few scholars and she would have all the knowledge in the world.</p><p>“You have been so alone all of your life. We have been shunned in our time, the world turns away in disgust. Why? Because we're different. Weird. Exceptional,”</p><p>Teased and taunted as a child for being curious and intelligent, unbecoming traits in a girl then sent of to a nunnery where she had no real friends because of their fears of her fascination with the occult.

</p><p>“Your little friends will shun you too once they figure out what you are, and they will eventually and they’ll hate you for it,”</p><p>How could they not? She was a monster, the very type that had killed Mina’s beloved fiancé. She would have done the same and therefore would not blame them when they did.</p><p>“I don't want to make you good, I don't want you to be normal. I don't want you to be anything but who you truly are. You have tried for so long to be what everyone wants you to be. What you thought you ought to be...The virtuous nun, the heroic savior...”</p><p>“Why not be who you are instead? You will never be alone again. I will be with you till time has lost all meaning.”</p><p>However the beauty of the lands they visited would always be tarnished by bloodshed, the sands of their time crimson with blood.</p><p>And she could not standby, no matter the gains, while he ravaged the lands and its people like a plague.</p><p>Agatha leant closer, his eyes widening slightly as a self satisfied grin emerged on his lips, perfectly composed and uttered just three words, </p><p>“I don't care." </p><p>His beginning of hope simmered and fizzed like a firework in a chill autumn breeze, disappointment flickering across his face only to be quickly replaced with an angry scowl.<br/>
Those were not the three words he had been hoping for in his dreamy blind hopefulness which was crushed beneath her uncaring boot. </p><p>It had been foolish to think happiness in the form of companionship was something he could have. That Agatha would finally be able to fill that hole inside himself, that had been like a gaping, rotting wound for over four hundred years. That she, his perfect Bride, could care for him at all, the monster that was responsible for her eternal life and so much heartache. </p><p>Agatha remained as still as a cadaver and just as pallid, then with a barely concealed smirk she turned on her heals and walked away as if strolling in the park on a fine day.</p><p>“You’ll regret this, Agatha!” He snarled after her, making no move to chase her. </p><p>Probably.<br/>
But for now she grinned like the cat that got the cream, satisfaction at having finally cut him just deeply as he had her. Sweet, sweet vengeance.<br/>
Sweet like the scent of death was.<br/>
A deceitful and beguiling demon promising justifiable compensation to a pained soul for its losses. Yet in truth it craftily festers away all else of worth remaining. Never satisfied, Vengeance was a monster of appetite, forever bloodthirsty and never filled.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Dear Reader,</p><p>Apologies for how long it took me to update!</p><p>I hope you enjoyed this chapter despite how long it took.</p><p>As always please tell me your thoughts in the comments and leave a kudos!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. In The Cold Light of Death</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Dracula takes his revenge but things don’t go as planned.<br/>Agatha faces the events of the previous night and their consequences.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
<em>London<br/>
1897 </em> </p><p>How dare she?<br/>
Deny him?<br/>
Reject him?</p><p>If he were alive, his heart would be broken, shattered into sad little pieces, but he was not, no longer had a heart to break, so it did not matter. </p><p>Her words meant nothing. Were of completely no concern to him. Like the shrill squeaks of a bug before it was crushed beneath his boot. </p><p>There was only red hot rage coursing through his veins, heating him to the point he might actually kid himself into believing he was alive, but that would also mean he would be afflicted by the aforementioned mortal issue, which he certainly was not. </p><p>Seething as he crawled up the wall, it seemed he had beaten her to the house. Good. Let her discover his surprise upon her return. Let her see that he followed through with his words.</p><p>The moon had hidden herself away behind her cloudy blankets, where he could not find her and make her burn just for the sake of ruining something beautiful. Something that haunted him when he would much rather watch handsome Apollo in his golden chariot. He was no lover of Luna, she was rather like his long suffering wife, watching him in disappointment as he went about his eternal not quite death.</p><p>Reaching the familiar window, a uncomfortable pang reverberated through him, but it was shrugged off as he slipped into the room with ease.</p><p>The girl lay perfectly still, too weakly mortal to even lift a finger to protect herself from him. How pathetic.<br/>
Not that she ever had. No, she had always been the most accommodating meal. </p><p>And to think he had nearly spared her for the sake of Agatha’s conscience. That would have been cruel, his bite would be a mercy, a quick and painless death. </p><p>“You’re as pale as a sheet...as the last unprinted snow. Finally freeing yourself of those pesky mortal chains, I see,” He chuckled.</p><p>Once she had been a beauty, now she was cadaverous. Clearly she had been taking style tips from dearly departed Johnny.</p><p>Soon she too would join him, and hopefully he would be able to make her last longer than his other English pet.<br/>
A bride unlike all others.<br/>
The only one who willingly opened up her veins. No need for tricks, she knew what was happening and embraced it, accepted it.<br/>
Now she could live forever.<br/>
She would certainly be something, and if that something became tedious over time, well, he always kept a stake at hand.</p><p>“My people have a saying, one should always speed a parting guest...” He said moving towards her bedside. </p><p>One last bite and then she would be eternal. An eternal jibe at Agatha.</p><p>Despite his words, she remained as still as a corpse.</p><p>“Lucy? Are you even...Oh...” He said sniffing before a chuckle passed his lips. </p><p>He should have noticed it when he first came in, the room was utterly drenched in it, clinging to the walls like the hideous wallpaper.<br/>
The pungently sweet scent of Death.<br/>
Lucy Westenra was dead as a doornail. And it had not even been his doing, well not in the end at least. </p><p>The realization certainly took the wind out of his vengeful sails. The smell filling his mouth with bittersweetness, Dracula scowled, glaring at the corpse, it was her fault, she just had go and expire without his permission. Stupid girl. </p><p>Now he could hear them. Her feeble screams for help. </p><p>“Help me! Help me! Help me! Help me!” Her voice cried echoing not from her mouth, silent and gaping, but from behind him.</p><p>Turning, he spotted what he was looking for. A mirror directly across from where she lay, and there inside its glassy depths was Lucy, wailing and sobbing, banging on the other side as if someone could free her from her reflective prison. </p><p>The irony of someone so vain and praised for their physical appearance trapped in a mirror was not lost on him, but he refrained for laughing least he further worry his very own Narcissus. </p><p>Shushing her with a taloned finger to his lips, not exactly hiding his amused grin, he stalked towards the vanity, pleased to not see his own self for once. He didn’t want to frighten the poor girl with that. </p><p>It did nothing to calm her, in fact it seemed to have the completely opposite effect as she only screamed more hysterically. </p><p>“Hush, Lucy, you're mine now. You've nothing left to fear. You won't be long in your grave. Your mind screams aloud, but for now, your body must be silent.” He said sighing as she continued to cry, it was rather irritating, and there was nothing left for him to do but depart, however not before he placed a gift for his rogue beloved, between Lucy’s cold stiff fingers. After one should always bring a gift when visiting friends. </p><p>And the velvet crimson contrasted quite beautifully against the cold white snow of her flesh. </p><p> </p><p>—————</p><p> </p><p>There are days when the dawn proceeds as if it were not ready to come, as if the black night is not quite ready to release it from its talons, yet schedule demands and entrance, and so the sun rises all the same.</p><p>None of the brillant vibrant painted hues, the sky was cold and grey, the garish light turning every invisible imperfection glaringly visible. And with this merciless light, came the soul's certainty that the day will have to be not traversed but sort of climbed, vertically, and then that going to sleep again at the end of it will be like falling, again, off something tall and sheer.</p><p>In the cold light of day, Agatha felt exposed, as if the sun, the clouds and the grey streets themselves were judging her. </p><p>Yet even after her moment of weakness, the sun’s rays still did not harm her, only caught her ring causing it to glint accusingly.<br/>
Had she finally found a loophole in those beastly rules?</p><p>After leaving the Count, she had made her way through the shadowed city, seeing just how far darkness freed depravity. Not that it did much to soothe her blackened soul, but it was reassuring to see that she was not the only one who fell prey to the Night’s temptations.</p><p>What was done was done. She could not go back in time to right her wrongs.<br/>
Though the experience had been most eye opening, she now knew far more about her own limitations, if there were any unlike Dracula. </p><p>Skirting the walls for the last remaining hidden veils of shadow, she made her way back to the pristine townhouse, yet there seemed something off about it, as if just beneath the coat of clean white plaster, there was something rotting, the putrid smell seeping out through the cracks in the mortar. Something was very wrong.</p><p>And that is how one was. The knowing yet not, that causes a state of dread, or apprehension, which makes the blow ten times worse when it does fall.</p><p>The hairs stood up on the back of her neck as she stepped up to the door, ringing the doorbell to which the butler opened.</p><p>Agatha had not even made it two steps in the doorway when she heard it.<br/>
The gut wrenching sobs of grief and the thumping of feet.<br/>
A tangled blonde whirlwind flew down the stairs.</p><p>“Mina...” She said not even sure where to begin.</p><p>She was still dressed in the previous day’s clothes which held the stains of the day’s meals. But she didn’t seem to notice.</p><p>In her cream night gown, Mina Murray stood teetering on the edge, a woman pushed too far by all that was bad in this world. It was amazing she still hadn’t been carted off, that her legs still held her upright despite the crushing sadness that sought to drown her.</p><p>“What is this?” She asked holding out a blood red rose. </p><p>There had been many the same flower set on her nightstand or vanity, seemingly appearing out thin air, but Agatha knew better. She knew exactly who was leaving them and now she also knew why, but how could she tell the broken woman before her that? </p><p>Her lack of reply only inched her closer to the precipice. </p><p>“What is this, Agatha!” She yelled thrusting the offending bloom into her face, her pale skin nearly matching it in color.</p><p>“I don’t know, but I really think you should sit down, you’ve been...” </p><p>“You don’t know? Yes you do! Lucy is dead! She’s dead! Dead! And it’s all because of you!” Mina shouted flying at her with barred teeth, claws and wild bloodshot blue eyes.</p><p>Agatha caught her wrists, easily restraining her. It was more of struggle to restrain herself and not use all her unnatural strength. </p><p>Her shouts confirmed what she had already surmised, Lucy Westenra was dead.<br/>
It really was because of her. She had goaded and taunted Dracula, he had warned that she would regret walking away from him and this was it. Her regret. Her punishment for rejecting his grand plans. </p><p>“First Johnny and now Lucy! You brought that monster here! It’s all your fault! Let me go!” Mina screamed trying to wrench her arms free.</p><p>Like a lone charcoal storm cloud, Agatha Van Helsing had descended upon her life and brought her nothing but gloom.<br/>
Despite her promises, she had not been able to save Johnny or Lucy nor defeat the beast that was Count Dracula. </p><p>From behind, Dr Seward approached, having heard the commotion from upstairs where he was seeing to his dearest Lucy, armed with a syringe.<br/>
He looked to Agatha in concern, and she nodded imperceptibly to the raving woman caught in her hands. </p><p>With the nod of agreement, the doctor sank the needle into Mina’s neck, injecting her with a dose of morphine, an act he was most familiar with. </p><p>Mina tried to turn and fight him off, screaming at him but as it began to take effect, her words faltered and her muscles loosened.</p><p>“I’m sorry Mina,” He said softly holding her up as her will to fight left her and she fell back into a drug induced sleep. </p><p>“I’ll take her up to her room.” He reassured.</p><p>“Yes.” Agatha said letting go of her wrists, giving her over to the capable doctor as he scooped her up, carrying her lankly up the stairs.</p><p>Her act of vengeance had only further polluted those around her. For a moment of satisfaction in Dracula’s hurt over her rejection, she was faced with this.<br/>
This ruin. This decay. Was this to be her legacy? A convent of massacred nuns, a ship littered with bodies, and two dead fiancés killed before they could even marry?</p><p>Her name was drowning in viscous blood. The blood that cursed her. Just like his, hers now held the lives of all those she had failed and ruined. </p><p>All sin was ultimately irrational. Though she attempted to persuade herself that she had good reasons for sinning, when examined in the cold light of truth on the last day, it would be seen in every case that sin ultimately just did not make sense. Saving Johnathan Harker had lead to her sisters’ deaths; saving Mina had lead to the Demeter’s passenger’s deaths... Had saving herself lead to Lucy’s death?<br/>
Then again, she had not truly saved herself. No, she was dead and that was half the problem.</p><p>Agatha bent down to pick up the discarded rose from the parquet floor, it’s petals still perfectly red and soft, miraculously it had survived Mina’s grieving onslaught.<br/>
Much like Him, the other half of the problem. It just refused to die.</p><p>He had killed Lucy just to spite her for denying him. Like an overgrown toddler who threw a tantrum when he didn’t get his own way.<br/>
Maybe, like a child, it would be best to ignore him for a time, to show him that bad behavior did not deserve any special attention. For she was far past the good Christian ways of Forgiveness. Let him learn a lesson or two about her spite.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Dear Reader,</p><p>May the 4th be with you!<br/>Lol.</p><p>Anyways, I am dreadfully sorry for not updating sooner, my Muse was being fickle. I’ve been trying to coax her with cake and cookies so hopefully she should remain for the foreseeable future but alas, I cannot promise anything.</p><p>I do hope you enjoyed this chapter nonetheless, as always please do leave a kudos and comment, maybe they will convince my Muse to stay!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Flamboyant Funeral</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Agatha is dragged through the pomp and showmanship of Mourning.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>London<br/>
1897</em>
</p><p>Death.</p><p>The inevitable conclusion of Life.<br/>
It came to all, whether one liked it or not. Early or late, swift or slow, it did not matter for the ending was the same.<br/>
It was merciless and just, uncaring of who one was or who one had been.<br/>
Rich or poor one would always end up in the same grave. </p><p>Though some graves were certainly more grandiose than others.</p><p>When Lucy died, time stopped, quite literally for the clocks had all been stopped as she drew her last breath.<br/>
And then darkness descended upon the house, followed by a mad flurry of activity.</p><p>Mirrors were covered in fresh swathes of black veiling to cover the mirrors throughout the house to avoid trapping her spirit in the looking glasses.<br/>
As were all the house’s inhabitants. Agatha was given a stiff dress of crepe, ordered by Mina without her knowing, many weeks ago. </p><p>All photos were also turned face down throughout the house to prevent possession of relatives and friends.<br/>
Once every visible surface was tarred, the  the curtains were drawn as were the faces in deep sorrowed frowns.<br/>
A wreath of laurel and yew or tied with ribbons was hung on the front door to show all their loss and the bell knob was adorned white bow to top the grim little present off.</p><p>The Westenra townhouse was now presentably in deep mourning. </p><p>Notices were sent to the appropriate places, all having been notified long before that such an occasion may arise due to Lucy’s illness.<br/>
Jack dealt with all the nitty gritty of the arrangements while Agatha remained in her room feeling firmly unwelcome, and Mina, off watching over her friend. </p><p>An intricately gilt dark-stained cherry wood, white satin-lined coffin arrived.<br/>
Fit for a queen, with tinplate weeping angels, urns with flowers, curling, leaves and vines, ensnaring the cradle, lest one try to escape.<br/>
An engraved breastplate spoke of the occupant’s name, age and the day’s date while delicate white lace covered the sides.</p><p>Lucy was carefully laid within under the watchfully bleary eyes of Mina who devoutly placed flowers around her, both for beauty and to mask the inevitable stench of death. </p><p>Dressed in her frilly white wedding gown, lace and veil making up for her lack of hair, she was the picture of a blushing bride, for all Lucy’s loveliness had come back to her in death, and the hours that had passed, instead of leaving traces of decay’s effacing fingers, had but restored the beauty of life. </p><p>The undertaker had certainly done his work well, for the room was turned into a small chapelle ardente. There was a wilderness of beautiful white flowers, and death was made as little repulsive as might be. </p><p>During the following days, people came from all over the country to pay their respects, filing past the virginal bride’s coffin strewn with time's dead flowers bereft in deathly bloom.</p><p> </p><p>————</p><p> </p><p>Even with three layers of wood and lead, the coffin did nothing to deafen her gut wrenching screams. They echoed and rattled out into the void, while Agatha tried to block them out.<br/>
But covering her ears and hiding alone in her darkened room did nothing to block out the truth. </p><p>Lucy Westenra was undead. Be her a vampire or simply a poor soul destined to suffer for all eternity, cursed to never have peace, it mattered not, Agatha could hear her.<br/>
Hear her as she screamed and sobbed and begged for mercy. That she was sorry and repented all her sins, that she did not deserve such hell. </p><p>And she powerless to do anything, the body was guarded by Mina and hired men, no one could go near her without Mr Holmwood’s expressed permission.</p><p>This was her punishment. For her own arrogance. For believing that she had to the upper hand when it came to Dracula and to God. </p><p>So as she had done before, she sat subjecting herself to each and every cry for help. </p><p> </p><p>————</p><p> </p><p>Three days later, the funeral was held, a double one at that, for Lucy’s mother who been visiting relatives at the time, had succumbed to some weakness of the heart upon hearing the news of her only child’s untimely death. </p><p>A procession of grand spectacle to Highgate Cemetery began.</p><p>The first carriage in the procession contained the clergyman and six pall bearers.</p><p>Then the hearse, an elaborate ebony carriage with glass sides and gold decorations drawn by four black horses.<br/>
Great plumes of ostrich dyed charcoal adorned every corner, horse, and attendant. Through the glass, black velvet could be seen covering the coffin which was swallowed by veritable garden of even more flowers; pure white calla lilies, blood red roses and verdant laurel. </p><p>Following the main act, a carriage of the nearest relatives and closest friends, Mina, Mr Holmwood, Dr Seward and Mr Morris.</p><p>And then that of more distant relatives and friends, where Agatha sat uncomfortably surrounded by sorrowful strangers, having been ushered in by Jack.</p><p>It was an ostentatious show of wealth, so far estranged from the deeply simple and basic human need to grieve.<br/>
More of a grand performance, she wondered how many of the sad faces around her were nothing but masks of expectation.</p><p> </p><p>————</p><p> </p><p>The weather was as dreary as the mood, as if a miasma of misery filled the very air, of course she did need air so Agatha remained utterly unaffected. </p><p>Everyone's heads were down. Maybe it was them showing respect of maybe they were too afraid to look at what was coming.<br/>
The coffin was pulled from the hearse by six strong men, all wearing black suits and hats. The silence dwelled as they approached the muaseosleoum. It wobbled as they carried the unwieldy thing to the front and gently placed it down before the large garnit structure on a passing plinthe. </p><p>When the priest took his place, all sat in near rehearsed perfection. </p><p>Then he droned on for what seemed line forever.</p><p>Agatha kept her head down unable to look any in the eye in case they saw just how black her soul had become. Or see her face contort uncomfortably at the continued screaming coming from the coffin. She nearly expected Lucy to shove the lid off and rise to attack her for bringing her such agony. </p><p>She did not but she might, there was the possibility that Dracula’s feeding on her had been enough to poison her with the vampire’s curse much like Mister Harker. </p><p>And there was nothing Agatha could do except suffer in silence, biding her time while attempting to pray in her usual imperfect way. </p><p>Let the child know peace, for in that sleep of death what dreams may come. When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, must give us pause: there's the respect. That makes calamity of so long life, for who would bear the whips and scorns of time without the end reward of heavenly bliss. And she deserved that at very least. To rest and be at peace rather than to endure a terrible un-death. </p><p>Did Dracula know?<br/>
Know that he may have made another of their kind? Did he even care?<br/>
How many other were there? Who he had inadvertently infected over the centuries? </p><p>Had she unknowingly cursed her victim of that accursed night? Was he know  scratching his way from his own grave? </p><p>The coffin was lifted and carried down into the Mausoleum to the solemn words of the clergyman as so many before it.</p><p>
  <em>“Forasmuch as it hath pleased Almighty God of his great mercy to take unto himself the soul of our dear brother here departed, we therefore commit his body to the ground; earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust; in sure and certain hope of the Resurrection to eternal life, through our Lord Jesus Christ; who shall change our vile body, that it may be like unto his glorious body, according to the mighty working, whereby he is able to subdue all things to himself.”</em>
</p><p> </p><p>————</p><p> </p><p>When it was all over, she stood besides the dwindling group.</p><p>“—she was probably too far gone by the time we did that...What did you call it, Jack?” Arthur said with slumped shoulders, gazing at the wrought iron mausoleum doors. </p><p>“A transfusion.”</p><p>“Right, that. But I still gave my blood to her, a part of me within my darling Lucy, and I know we weren’t yet married but I feel nearly as if we were and that in God’s eyes, she is my wife.” </p><p>Jack and Mina winced visibly at such words and Quincey looked away rather awkwardly.</p><p>“Yes that’s sweet. She would have liked that.” Mina said softly, patting his shoulder gently. </p><p>It was indeed a comforting idea, but what about the others? Had Mina and Jack not also given their blood to the dear girl?<br/>
From what Agatha understood and had tasted, all three had. Therefore by poor Arthur’s sense, sweet and pure Lucy was a polyandrist. </p><p>It took all her will not to snort at such a preposterous idea.</p><p> </p><p>————</p><p>Arthur and Quincey went away together to the station, while Mina, Jack and herself went back to townhouse, now owned by a cousin who graciously allowed the two women understood to be close friends of his dearly departed cousin, to remain until they found other accommodation.</p><p> </p><p>————</p><p> </p><p>The house was near as silent as crypt, now that the parade of visitors were gone, Jack too had gone home leaving Mina and Agatha to themselves and their grief.</p><p>Mina went straight to her room and knowing that that was to be the last she saw of her, for awhile at least, Agatha did the same, retiring to her own room with a strange jumble of emotions.</p><p>The grim irony of it all. A so lovely lady garlanded with flowers, that looked so fair as life, till one by one the mourners had wondered if she were truly dead. She laid in the so fine marble house in the lovely, where rest so many of her kin, laid there with the mother who loved her, and whom she loved. And the holy man, with the white garments of the angel, pretending to read the book, and yet all the time his eyes never on the page. And all of them with the bowed head. And all for what? </p><p>She was not dead, yet how could they know that? That ugly truth. </p><p>Lucy Westenra would rise again.<br/>
No longer a pure angelic bride but a foul creature of the night. </p><p>A fate that could have been averted had they let Agatha near the body to preform the necessary measures. But no, that would be discretion. Going against all the teaching’s of the Church. For the body must remain intact to be properly resurrected on the final day. </p><p>Well they wouldn’t have to wait until then, for she be resurrected soon and then it would be once again left to Agatha to fix the problem, which she had admittedly partly brought upon herself.</p><p>It was all very laughable, really.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Dear Reader,</p><p>Apologies for taking so long to update, I seemed to have caught a terrible bout of writer’s block but hopefully this tale will be concluded by the end of the month.</p><p>Victorian funerals and mourning are absolutely fascinating in my opinion, and so I hope you enjoyed this chapter!</p><p>I have posted another fanfiction as well, this time a Phantom of the Opera based one so if you’re interested in that fandom or just want to read more of my stuff, please do give it a look, it’s called The Madonna.</p><p>Also I am now on <a href="https://emimuart.tumblr.com/">Tumblr</a>, I post Dracula fan art and lots of other cool things so do check it out!</p><p>At last, as always a comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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